House of Silvermoor
by YuureiNingyou
Summary: Collection of short stories detailing the adventures of the Silvermoor household- a cursed/sickly Elvish Wizard, an Undead Fighter, and a young Kenku Warlock. Each chapter is a separate short story with a loose timeline.
1. Meeting Cole

**Rhys Silvermoor**

_Silver/Moon High Elf Wizard – Lawful Neutral _

**Lv **20 | **AC**11| **HP** 80

**STR **11 (+0)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **20 (+5) | **WIS **17 (+3) | **CHA **10 (+0)

**Bernard**

_Human Variant Fighter- Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **17 | **AC**12 (w/o armor) | **HP** 191

**STR **16 (+3)** | DEX **13 (+1) | **CON **16 (+3) **| INT **11 (+0) | **WIS **12 (+1) | **CHA **9 (-1)

**Cole **

_Kenku – Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **1 | **AC**11| **HP** 8

**STR **8 (-1)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **15 (+2) | **WIS **16 (+3) | **CHA **13 (+1)

* * *

A light rain started to fall as the carriage rushed through the forest path. The sun had long set and the carriage driver was determined to make it to town before dawn. Urging the horse on, he failed to see the oncoming pock in the dirt floor. With a harsh strike, the sound of splitting wood erupted in the calm night. The carriage tilted unsteadily in protest. Coming to an abrupt halt, the heavily cloaked driver leapt from his perch with the lead lantern in hand.

Surveying the forest floor and horizon cautiously, the driver found no stray carcass maimed by the carriage but found that the rear wheel had been decimated to splitters. Only a few spokes clung to the remains. With an audible frustrated groan, the driver banged his head once against the cabin side and rested his head against it. His haste was his own undoing and now was the least of times to be stranded in the woods. Hearing the loud groan, a small Kenku peered from the tree line to observe. It was unusual for a traveler to stop this far from town- especially in the dark.

Counting on his fingertips and judging by the stars, he threw his head back with another angered sigh. They were still about a 2-hour ride away from town. Resolving himself, he carefully opened the carriage door and poked his head in. His charge still lay unconscious and undisturbed on one of the benches. Closing the door once more, the driver started to pace and scheme his next steps. All the while, the rain started to pick-up.

Cursing as he paced the driver kept glancing from the road ahead to the downed carriage, "'It will be a quick trip. Just a jaunt to the next town. No trouble.' He said! Damn it all! He'd have this fixed with a wave of his hand."

Kicking the wood fragments hastily, a shard flew by the Kenku's head causing his to abandon his coverage in the bush. Hearing the rustling, the driver drew a long sword from beneath his cloak and faced the sound of the noise.

In a firm and commanding tone, the driver extended his blade, "Show yourself."

Terrified, the little bird clicked an uneasy gulp and exited the bushes with his hands up. Mustering his courage, he croaked, "No harm."

Seeing it was just a small child, the seasoned warrior scanned the tree line for reinforcements It was a common bandit trick to lure travelers with an invalid and then ambush them while their guard was down. Barking a threat, the driver carefully approached, "Where are the others?"

Confused and scared of the man, the Kenku shook his head. "No others. Me only."

"What are you doing out here?"

Pondering the question with a turn of his head, the bird responded astutely "Live."

With an incredulous eyebrow raise, the driver lowered his blade a bit. He was always a good judge of character and based on the rags this little creature bore, he could clearly see he was an urchin. "You live here?"

Casting a wary eye to the road, scanning both sides, the Kenku responded, "No. Close. Road not safe." Then an idea dawned to the bird, with a quick shake of his feathers to dislodge the newly accumulated water from rain, he spoke again, "Follow, I show safe."

Hesitation darkened the driver's gaze; he couldn't leave the carriage unattended. It was too tempting of a target in these woods. Seeing him pause, the bird looked around and pointed to the carriage door. "Bring with?"

Replacing his sword into its sheath, Bernard contemplated his options. He could easily unhitch the horse and make a bolt to town, but given Rhys' state, he was not wise to jostle him. The carriage ride was bad enough. He also couldn't just leave him vulnerable in the carriage, who knows what other unlucky travelers would find them on the road. Grumbling, to himself, the offer from the bird seemed sincere and the rain was starting to pick up. Handing the lantern to the bird, the driver hissed a threat. "If I suspect any foul play, I will cleave you in half and have you for supper."

Grimacing at the thought, the young bird took the lantern as the driver went back to the carriage. He disappeared for a moment but then emerged backward with a pack strapped to his back and an adult figure cradled in his arms. The unmoving mound had a hooded cloak over his head and a jacket thrown over his face to protect it from the rain, the Kenku could make out no other features in the dark.

The trio made their way into the tree line and the Kenku lead them expertly to a small cavern easily concealed by the trees and foliage. Parting a bush, they descended into the humble abode where a small fire burned in the center. Once illuminated, the driver could the small on cove was littered with trinkets and various bits of salvaged and clearly discarded materials.

With a proud chirp, the young Kenku ushered onward into the cave, "Safe. No find. No find." Rushing into the room, the small bird placed the lantern down on the ground next to a palette of blankets littered with books and trinkets. With a quick brush of his arms, the Kenku cleared the bedding and patted it. "Here, here. Place here. Very soft and warm."

Bernard was an exceedingly tall and broad-shouldered man and had difficulty entering the cave and stood only at half-height while carrying his incapacitated bundle. Swat-walking forward, he carefully placed the mound onto the bed and turned his attention to the small bird. Hissing another warning Bernard leaned in for effect. "Do not touch him. I will be back shortly." Setting the travel chest down as well, Bernard made his way out of the cavern and back into the night.

Happy to have the grumpy giant leave, the Kenku shook his feathers again to remove some water before toddling over to his campfire. Chirping a happy tune, he placed the pot over the fire and began to prepare a humble cabbage stew. He had never had guests before and while this exchange could end poorly, as so many others had in the past, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was special about this night. It was just like one of his storybooks- a wounded traveler enters an Inn for aid (Treasure Island). Thinking about his books, the Kenku pondered what kind of person lay under the shroud. All his features were covered by the cloak.

Casting a concerned look towards the entrance and even going so far as to poke his head out, just to make sure he was truly alone, the bird crept forward towards the mass piled into his bed. With exceedingly cautious and slow movements, he eventually pulled the cloak off the person's face. Lying on his side, the man turned out to be a dark-skinned elf with grey hair. Rather unimpressive until the bird inspected further- the entire left side of his face was horribly scarred and damaged to the point that the bird could have sworn his muscles were exposed. Drawing the lantern closer, he marveled at the man- he sat very still while he watched his chest rise and fall. Surprisingly, he was very much alive.

Shifting to move away, the little bird shifted his foot and accidentally placed it atop of the man's gloved hand. Momentarily freaking out, casting glances from the hand to the man's face. The Kenku carefully lifted his foot and watched for any signs of movement. Seeing none, the little bird sighed and went back to preparing his dinner. After stirring the stew, the bird's attention went back to his guest. Creeping forward again, he went after the chest this time. Opening it with ease, he began to rummage through it.

Finding a few books and scrolls, the bird stopped when he found a familiar book title. Rushing over to his stash of books, he pulled one that was broken at the spine and missing half of it. Only the back cover was intact. Comparing the two, he quickly confirmed that they were the same. With a happy tweet, the little bird danced merrily as he flipped open the pristine copy and began to read the first few pages. He stopped abruptly when he realized that this was an earlier copy, one with the writer's notes still in the margins – a mock-up before the press. Going back to the chest, the Kenku realized that all of the books and scrolls had the same author's name. One of the scrolls even had a wax seal still on it. Inspecting it with great detail, the Kenku looked back at the unconscious elf- either this man was a fan of this writer…. Or maybe he was the writer. In which case, he was a Wizard.

The bird's eyes widened at the prospect. A real wizard, here, in his cave. He must know. Approaching once more, the bird looked over the elf for any signs or emblems. Recalling that most nobles wore fancy rings with their crest, he immediately went to the mans' gloved hands. Pulling the right glove off with easy, he did find a couple of rings but nothing bearing a signet. The left glove did not come off without error and to the bird's shock, there was no flesh upon it. Peeling off the glove revealed a completely skeletal hand-picked cleaner than the bones of any creature after the vultures had finished with it. Touching the cold bones, he carefully studied how it was connected. Surely there must be some magic involved, bone on bone contact would often fall apart with nothing to hold it together.

Under his breath and with widened eyes, the bird spoke, "Wizard…"

To his delight, there on the middle skeletal finger was a silver signet ring- the markings matched the wax seal. This man was the writer of the magic books- Rhys Silvermoor.

Unable to contain his excitement, the bird leaped from the man's side and quickly busied himself reading the chapters of the book that were missing from his copy. Oh, the questions he would have for the elf when he woke. If he woke. A new thought darkened the bird's mind – what if the big man comes back before the elf wakes…he might not get his chance then. Determined to follow them even if they left, the bird was content with his new plan. Now to study the book for its contents and for new words.

The bird had lost track of time as he read the books gleefully. It wasn't until a hoarse and tired voice broke the silence. Startled the little bird, the calm voice of the elf spoke, "My, my, what an impressive magpie stash you've collected..."

Turning to see the slender man crouching examining in earnest the baubles and trinkets the Kenku had amassed, his chest puffed with pride at the compliment. Now awake, the small bird could see the man had one blue eye another was a ghostly white with no color. Taking his attention from the bird, Rhys looked around at his new surroundings. Strange place to wake but he had encountered worse. Rhys suddenly realized that his hands were uncovered, casting a quick glance down to confirm, he then looked worriedly at the bird who was now on his feet and approaching. Shifting the skeletal arm under the cloak, Rhys watched curiously as the bird approached and moved the cloak aside. Mesmerized that the bones could actually move, the bird lifted the hand and with beseeching eyes, wordlessly asked Rhys to move it.

A sly smirk appeared on Rhys' face as he complied. "Not afraid?"

With a happy click, the Kenku examined the fingers and flexed them within his own. Clearly the bird was unfazed and more interested. Before Rhys could say anything, the bird dashed back over to his seat next to the fire and returned with a book that was nearly as large as himself. Clutching it close to his chest with both hands, the bird's eyes shimmered with excitement. Choosing his words carefully, he finally spoke, "You write?"

Extending the book forward, Rhys looked at the cover and recognized it has his own instantly. "Yes. I did."

Nearly leaping with joy, the bird's excitement grew. Thousands of questions flew within his mind but all that came out of his mouth was incoherent garbage. Knowing that he was not conveying himself clearly and likely embarrassing himself in front of a wizard, his idol, the bird's frustration grew. All the while, Rhys watched intrigued. Raising his hand to quiet the mixture of garbled words and chirps, Rhys addressed his host. "Little one, what is your name?"

Pausing to think, the bird took a deep breath before answering. "No name… bad-egg, not named."

Raising his only eyebrow, Rhys shifted forward a bit from his crouch to give his knees a break. "No name. Hmm… I take it this is your home?"

Nodding as a reply. The bird suddenly recalled his stew and quickly fetched two bowls. Taking the cracked one for himself, he handed the elf the other and pantomimed an eating gesture.

Bowing his head politely, Rhys replied, "Thank you for the shelter and food… I was traveling with another: a very tall man with black hair and a beard. Have you seen him?" Distracting the bird with his words, Rhys stealthily placed the bowl of soup down at this side. While he did not suspect his host of any foul intent, he made a habit of avoiding food prepared by others for the sake of his own poor health.

Slurping his soup directly from the bowl the bird quickly wiped his beak on the back of his hand. "Mean man go to town. Get new wheel."

Slowly piecing the events together, "The carriage wheel broke?"

Nodding again, the bird went on, "Hit big hole." Then making a perfect mimicking sound of wood splintering the bird gestured the wheel exploding in his hands.

Amused Rhys chuckled slightly, "Ah… he must have gotten into a hurry. Poor Bernard."

Mimicking the new word, the bird turned his head to the side. "Burrr-nard."

"Yes. That is the "mean-man's" name. Mine is Rhys." Rhys replied with a slight bow of his head.

Hearing the name, the bird quickly shot a glance at the book's spine again. Focusing the sound to the word, he wanted to make sure to couple the two permanently in his thoughts. The Kenku had read his torn half of that book over, and over again, spending countless nights toiling over learning their meaning and trying to unlock their secrets of magic. He had fallen into the unfortunate class where he could read at a higher level than he could speak. The sounds escaped him when it came to audible pronunciation.

After hastily finishing his stew, the bird crept closer with the pristine book in hand so that he sat directly next to Rhys' leg. Cracking the spine, he opened it to the chapters he knew well. He hadn't gotten far into reading those that were missing from his copy but at least wanted to ask a few questions-figured it was easier to start with the familiar. Gesturing at the book, the small kid started to piece together questions fueling his speech with the words on the page and heavy use of implied questions. For the next hour or so, Rhys engaged the young one. He could clearly see the burning passion the bird had for magic. This book, in particular, was an introductory course to the principles of magic such as casting, gestures, the use of components, and it included some rudimentary Level 1 through Level 3 spells and cantrips such as Rhys's favorite-mage hand.

Rather entranced by the bird's desire for knowledge and understanding, Rhys playfully began to cast some of the harmless cantrips and low-level spells as a demonstration. He loved to teach and to actually have someone immensely interested only invigorated the exchange. Casting Mage Hand first, Rhys whisk it around the cavern to demonstrate its capabilities such as range and how much it could lift. The young Kenku chased it merrily and his eyes were wide carefully studying and enraptured to be in the presence of magic, actual magic.

Time had escaped the both of them and it wasn't until a drenched figure entered the cave did their frivolities stop. Bernard had returned as was just as grumpy as ever. The young bird keenly remembered his threat and quickly dashed behind Rhys' leg. Rhys taking note of the sudden change in demeanor turned to greet Bernard who had practically hunched to the point he had to crab walk into the cave. Giving a quick glare at the Kenku, Bernard scowled slightly. Rhys spoke with an apologetic tone at the sight of his water-soaked companion. "Evening Bernard. Come sit and rest for a moment. You've had a rather unfortunate evening from what our friend told me."

Still distrustful of the Kenku, Bernard complied with Rhys' request if only to examine him. Taking account of his person, Bernard was curious to see Rhys had removed his gloves—something he rarely did outside of the manor, especially among strangers. Raising his hand to Rhys' forehead, he checked for a fever but found nothing. Rhys unamused shifted back from the warrior's gesture and waved it off as needless concern. "I'm fine. Feeling better actually."

With a skeptical glance, Bernard finally spoke, "Could have had me fooled based on the state you were in when I left." Seeing the Mage Hand still linger idly nearby, Bernard raised an eyebrow, "What's going here."

Rhys rekindled his smirk and placed a comforting hand onto the back of the Kenku, gesturing from his to stop cowering behind him. "Would you believe our luck; my young friend is not only a wonderful host also an aspiring scholar—particularly interested in magic. You'll have to forgive me, while you were painstakingly toiling to repair the carriage, I've been enjoying igniting a spark to the lump of coal."

Comforted by the soothing wizard's words, the Kenku crept forward to listen to the exchange. When the word coal was spoken, his ears perked up. He rather liked the sound of that word. Pondering for a moment, he then said it aloud with a happy chirp. "Coal." Drawing attention to himself, both adults looked down at the bird. With a happy and proud stance, he pointed at each of them identifying them by name, "Rhys. Bernard." And then gesturing to himself, "Coal!"

Bernard was confused by the exchange, but Rhys's smile just grew. Apparently, the young one had chosen a name for himself. It reminded Rhys fondly of his own name day wherein he chose his name. Patting the little bird on the head, Rhys lifted his copy of the book and then with a piece of charcoal from the fire, he shaped into a fine point, inscribed the front page of his book with a short note of thanks addressed to Cole. Handing the book back, Rhys pointed out the name at the bottom. "Nameless no more…that is how you write the name Cole and this book is now yours."

Studying the strokes carefully, the Kenku looked from the page back to the wizard as felt teary-eyed. No one had ever given him anything. Clutching the book closely, he hugged it to his chest. As he did, Bernard cleared his throat and dutifully reminded Rhys of their ongoing obligation, "As sweet as this is, we've got to get you to town. It will be dawn soon."

Nodding in agreement, Rhys addressed Cole once more. "Cole, unfortunately, we must be on our way. It was delightful to meet you and thank you again for your hospitality… If interested, I am actually giving a lecture on magic tomorrow evening at the College. It is free to the public—I hope to see you there."

As Rhys said his goodbyes, Bernard gathered the travel chest and exited the cave. Cole was markedly sad to see his new friend leave but was excited to attend the lecture. His previous plan to follow the wizard returned to his mind. As soon as the silver-haired man left, Cole would begin to pack his essentials. This was his chance to actually learn magic- he wouldn't let this pass him by.


	2. Aid to a Farmer

**Rhys Silvermoor**

_Silver/Moon High Elf Wizard – Lawful Neutral _

**Lv **20 | **AC**11| **HP** 80

**STR **11 (+0)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **20 (+5) | **WIS **17 (+3) | **CHA **10 (+0)

**Bernard**

_Human Variant Fighter- Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **17 | **AC**12 (w/o armor) | **HP** 191

**STR **16 (+3)** | DEX **13 (+1) | **CON **16 (+3) **| INT **11 (+0) | **WIS **12 (+1) | **CHA **9 (-1)

**Cole **

_Kenku – Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **1 | **AC**11| **HP** 8

**STR **8 (-1)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **15 (+2) | **WIS **16 (+3) | **CHA **13 (+1)

* * *

Lying in his sickbed, Rhys heard the loud thumping knock on the exterior Manor door. Without having to move, he heard the swift feet of Bernard and the lull gruff voice of the warrior answer.

"We are not admitting visitors. State your business and I will relay it to Lord Silvermoor."

Desperation colored their haggard response. "Please do not send us away. We are desperate need of the Lord's aid and protection."

Their pleading was met with the firm response of Bernard and they went back and forth for a while.

Recognizing their accents to be from outside of his township, Rhys cast Detect Thoughts to interlope a bit further. Content their need was legitimate, he rose painfully from his bed and cast message to Bernard- "I will speak with them."

With a snarl, Bernard received the message and parted slightly allowing the father and eldest daughter into the manor. The man was swayed not by their pleas but rather by something else. While they had the bearing of farmers, the hardened warrior trusted no one and escorted them begrudgingly to the study, where they were soon met by Rhys. He had straightened up his appearance a bit, donned his gloves, and hastily through a blanket over his shoulders and now sat propped against his chair. Using it desperately for support. Seeing the Lord of Silvermoor in such a disheveled state took the visitors aback. They had no idea what to expect upon arrival, but this certainly wasn't your typical Lord.

Casting a wearily glance to Rhys, silently questioning his intent and unneeded interference, Bernard kept to the back but still close enough to intercede should the arrivals try anything. He was always extra precautions and protective of Rhys whenever he was in a weakened state.

Fighting back the throbbing headache, Rhys cleared his throat and spoke softly. "You've traveled far just to meet with me... Orcs and Goblins have besieged your lands and now you come to me for aid." Interrupting his monologue, Rhys coughed briefly into his handkerchief before continuing, "yet, your lands knowingly fall beyond my borders..."

Shocked that the Lord knew so much without them uttering a word, the father pulled the cap from his head and began to fiddle with it in his hands. He knew the stories that Silvermoor was a powerful wizard, it shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did for him to seem omnipotent. Bowing his head and returning a gruff answer the farmer beseeched his case. "As you say, my Lord, Orcs have raided and took over my lands, across the river from your fiefdom. I know this is not of your concern, but I beg for your help. We tried to persuade the Duke to come to our aid, but he said my lands are too insignificant to him. That my family-" fighting back rage and tears from his dirt covered face, Rhys watched how a once proud man was brought very low.

Finishing the man's sentence, Rhys' tone was sympathetic. "That your family didn't matter... A cruel verdict."

Hopeful eyes of the human farmer looked on at the disfigured elf, breathlessly awaiting his next sentence.

With a slight sigh, Rhys leaned back in his chair, "I cannot send the town guards to your farm...the Duke and I have had a tenuous relationship as of late. It would be interpreted as an act of war or invasion." A pin drop could have been heard as the farmer's hopes crashed to the floor. Yet, to his disbelief, Rhys continued, "That said... I can send an envoy to review your fields in order to establish a trade, small in value, as not to interfere or deem necessary to engage the local nobility for their permission."

Bernard's face dropped as he instantly knew where this was going. The farmer was confused and first thought maybe the Lord has misinterpreted the situation, maybe he was feverish and perchance delirious. Not wanting to offend, the farmer replied hesitantly, "My-my Lord, I don't think- my farm has been ransacked, I've nothing to trade?!"

A slight grin appeared on Rhys' face as he held his hand up to silence the party. "You will, in the fall. That is if you get to restoring your lands once Bernard accompanies you back to deal with the Orcs."

Shifting a horrified back and forth glance from the elf to the giant of a man that was the butler known as Bernard, the farmer's face twisted into dismay and anger. He was being taken as a fool. Raising his voice, he barked, "One man?! You think one man can drive off those damned orcs?!"

Rising from his seat with an Elvish grace, Rhys swiftly was by the farmer's side and placed a hand on his furious and shaking shoulder. In a reassuring and confident tone, Rhys looked directly into the man's eye to express his sincerity, "One man... those Orcs will be gone by-" Shifting his focus to Bernard, Rhys coyly, "say by daybreak or will you need more time, Bernard?"

With an audible groan, Bernard bowed and chided Rhys for volunteering him. "Morning is fine."

Rhys nodded and patted the man on the shoulder before shifting back towards his desk, the blanket on his shoulder swayed like a traveling cloak, "We cannot ignore the plight of our neighbors. Suit up and be sure to take Cole with you. It would be good for him to observe-"

Protesting Bernard interrupted, "Oh no, no, I'm not leaving you here unattended!"

Rhys playfully gestured his fingertips and with a sideways glance subtly answered. "I'll be fine. Besides, you won't be gone long."

Bernard huffed off of the room with heavy and agitated footfalls.

Rhys shuffled over to his writing desk and withdrew a scroll from the nearby shelf. Sprawling it out, he gestured for the farmer to approach. "If you would, can you approximate where on this map your farm is and where the orcs main camp is?"

Looking over the highly detailed map of the area, it was a two days ride from the Silvermoor Manor and yet, this wizard had a map of all the rivers, forests, and farmhouses. It took him a moment to recognize familiar landmarks, but the farmer was able to describe in detail where things were. All the while, Rhys renewed the detect thoughts spell and used the farmer's memories to reconstruct the location.

Within ten minutes, a heavily armored knight re-entered the room, carrying a very large greatsword and nothing else. No travel pack or any provisions for the trek back. Once again, the farmer was confused but knew better than to question.

Rhys, still surveying the map, finally looked up at the company. "Bernard, just let me know when you have finished tidying up and I'll pull you back."

Nodding in his armor, Bernard readied himself. A teenage Kenku rounded the corner hastily and nearly out of breath, Cole stood in the doorway with an enormous grin on his face.

"Ah there you are. Please allow me to introduce my son and apprentice, Cole. Cole, this is Eli of the Brown Marsh and his Daughter Lilia." Once again, the farmer turned to Rhys befuddled. They had not given their names nor had a chance to introduce themselves. Still, Rhys continued, "This is a survey opportunity Cole. I want to you observe Bernard but do not get in his way."

Pouting that he would not be further involved but still delighted to be out of the manor, Cole wordlessly agreed.

Rhys turned his attention back to the farmer, "I look forward to hearing about the fall harvest."

Then with a wave of his hand, before any further protest could be made, a blinding white light consumed the room. It took their eyes awhile to adjust to the darkness they were plunged in but much to his alarm, they were no longer standing in the Lord's Manor. Instead, they were outside, in a tree cover field. The smells were instantly familiar to the farmer -he was home. The Wizard had teleported them back to the farm directly.

Bernard covered in his armor, lifted his faceplate briefly. "Gather your family and bring them here. I shall be back momentarily."

True to his word, the wizard had promised the orcs to be gone by morning and just before the break of dawn, Bernard had returned to the group, absolutely covered in blood and dirt. The orcs and goblins had been eradicated and Bernard and Cole and spent the better part of the morning disposing of the dead.


	3. Wizarding Overkill

**Rhys Silvermoor**

_Silver/Moon High Elf Wizard – Lawful Neutral _

**Lv **20 | **AC**11| **HP** 80

**STR **11 (+0)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **20 (+5) | **WIS **17 (+3) | **CHA **10 (+0)

**Bernard**

_Human Variant Fighter- Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **17 | **AC**12 (w/o armor) | **HP** 191

**STR **16 (+3)** | DEX **13 (+1) | **CON **16 (+3) **| INT **11 (+0) | **WIS **12 (+1) | **CHA **9 (-1)

**Cole **

_Kenku – Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **1 | **AC**11| **HP** 8

**STR **8 (-1)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **15 (+2) | **WIS **16 (+3) | **CHA **13 (+1)

* * *

Shutting the screen door quietly behind him, an exhausted Cole shambled out to the porch that surrounded the back of the manor. It was a calm night, early fall so the bugs had quieted, all the world seemed still but his guts were in a bind and his mind was racing. Seeing a familiar specter lurking nearby, the dim embers of his pipe revealed his perch sitting on the railing. Approaching the mountain of a man, the pre-teen Kenku sought guidance but could not find the words. He had never seen Rhys in combat til today and now he could not shake the guilt that his carelessness now left his mentor collapsed and unresponsive. With a heavy heart, Cole joined the gruff Butler on the railing and looked out at the garden and forest.

Shifting his gaze slightly, Bernard studied the small black bird and while he could not read his thoughts like Rhys, he could tell the kid was upset. Taking a long draw from his pipe, he cast a smoke ring into the air before speaking, "Alright kid... Spill it. You'll have to use your words though, I'm not very good at charades."

With pleading icy blue eyes, Cole looked up at Bernard and was immediately grateful. While the conversation would be hard, he had to get his mind straight. Focusing on what he wanted to say, Cole stammered but managed, "Rhys...my fault. I found the goblins. Now he-"

Sniffling at this point, the Kenku's focus was lost as his shoulders began to shake. Once a father and grandfather, Bernard instinctively placed a comforting hand on Cole's back and gave him a firm but kind pat. "Nah, kiddo, that isn't your fault. Rhys has been unwell for many years now. Before you were even born. He just overdid it. I've seen him worse off."

While Cole knew Rhys' health was poor, he had never seen him collapse entirely. Usually, his illness just manifested as some form of coughing or him seeming extra tired, or unsteady. But this was different. Rhys went from a terrifying combatant to a comatose heap in a flash. Cole still felt the nagging guilt that this was all his fault but wanted to inquire further.

"Many years? What caused-?" Gesturing his hand, Cole traced the side of his face that on Rhys was marred and then raised his left hand and flexed the fingers to hint at the skeletal hand Rhys possessed. Then in perfect mimicry, Cole produced a sound identical to Rhys' cough.

Bernard understood but simply sighed as an initial response. Drawing his gaze away from Cole, he traced the horizon. "Not my place to tell. If Rhys wants, he will tell you himself. Give him a couple of days and he'll be back on his feet."

Nodding solemnly, Cole still was not content, and the day's events kept playing on repeat in his mind:

* * *

It was an unusually nice day; the weather was fair and Rhys was having a good day. Taking a break from his study, he decided he would take Cole out for a trip. Rather than take the carriage, Rhys decided it would be an opportunity for Cole to practice riding. So, on two horses, the pair descended from the mountain and traveled to the township below. Cole while leery of the massive horse, but somehow managed to stay upright and as the ride went on, he became more and more comfortable with the gentle jostling. Rhys on the other hand, seemed well accustomed to horseback riding-clearly a skill picked up from his adventuring days.

The trip to town was uneventful. They went shopping for some small supplies, visited the printing press that Rhys owned to check-in, ate at the tavern for lunch. All in all, it was a good day.

Things took a sour turn though. Rather than heading back to the manor, Rhys wanted to check the glen and forest for some more ingredients. It was not long into their trek did Cole's horse become spooked by something and darted further into the woods. Cole froze in fear.

Rhys hastened his horse to match the speed and then cast Mage Hand to summon the ghostly disembodied hand. Gesturing with his own, Rhys used the magic hand to grab hold of the reigns and steer the frighten beast to a halt. Protesting at the sudden stop, the horse bucked and threw Cole from the saddle. Falling abruptly to the ground, Cole was more terrified than hurt. Dismounting and soothing the agitated horse, Rhys secured both to a nearby tree and then rejoined Cole. Lowering his hand to the panting bird, Rhys helped hoist him to his feet.

Looking over Cole for any injuries, Rhys released his hand and patted him on the shoulder, "Are you alright, Cole?"

Nodding and regaining his senses, Cole dusted himself off all the while glaring at the horse. Before Cole could answer, Rhys placed his hand onto the bird's beak to quiet him. Rhys' focus had gone to the tree line and his single eye was keenly surveying the area. He had spotted something.

A single arrow whizzed past Rhys and it was shortly joined by several others. With a quick gesture, a ward appeared in front of Rhys and Cole just in time to dissolve the arrows in midflight. Seeing their range attack was thwarted so quickly, five goblins charged from the tree line sporting their swords and snarling teeth. Preparing for an ambush, Rhys pulled Cole close to him and extended one hand forward, a Ray of Sickness caused a few of the goblins to fall almost instantly as they took heavy necrotic damage since Rhys had cast it at a higher level.

As expected, another wave emerged from behind in attempts to flank Cole and Rhys. This time two orcs joined along with 4 more goblins. Leaning in to whisper in Cole's ear. Rhys was exceeding calm, but Cole's eyes were wide, and every instinct was telling him to run. In a steady voice, Rhys reassured, "Stay on your feet."

The bodies of the fallen goblins had not had a chance to cool before the first 5 of them had been reanimated. Seeing their comrades rise again the other goblins jeered until the reanimate rushed forward and began a melee onslaught. Momentarily distracted by his puppeteering, Rhys reacted just in time to shove Cole out of the way of a massive tree branch. One of the orcs had lopped it like a lance. With goblin attacking goblin, the dead made short work of the task. The orcs moved to the offensive and split themselves, one for the wizard and one for the Kenku.

Rhys managed to evade the sword of the orc that chose him for a few swings, all the while, Rhys kept an eye on Cole. With a powerful backhand, the orc had knocked Cole to the ground. As he approached, he pulled his wooden club from his back. Cole began to crawl away.

Using his reanimated goblins, Rhys swarmed the orc before him. The remaining three corpses had taken quite a beating from their former counterparts but their undead tenacity was too much for the orc and it was swiftly knocked to the ground and then brutally torn and stabbed.

Just as the last remaining orc was about to swing his club down onto the ground, crushing Cole between it and the club, Rhys appeared behind it using Misty Step and firmly grasp the Orcs head within his skeletal left hand-the glove of which had metaphorically and physically come off. Rhys' expression was cold and unyielding, but his eye held a frightening resolve. It was then Cole noticed a green glow radiated from Rhys' hand and within a flash, the orc had crumbled into a pile of dust.

Releasing his animation spell, the remaining shambles of the goblins collapsed into bloody mounds on the ground. With all the foes fallen, Cole looked up to Rhys in awe. He grew up on tales of Rhys adventures, but he never imagined seeing it in person. Rhys was a nimble wizard who had survived many lives' worth of combat. At that moment, he was every bit of his legend... However, that moment was fleeting. A strange but subtle smoke wisp from beneath Rhys left sleeve, gripping his forearm as if in pain, Rhys dropped to his knee.

Rhys said nothing as he scanned the trees. The brief ambush appeared to be over. His arm burned and his vision began to blur with darkness consuming the corners of his vision. Unable to give any warning or prepare Cole, Rhys suddenly just fell to his side with a sickening thud. There was no coughing fit, no blood, or injury to be seen, Rhys had just collapsed. Rushing to his side, Cole tried to wake him all to no avail.

A deep fear began to surround Cole like an ominous shadow. He was essentially alone in these woods and they had already been attacked once. The feathers on the back of his neck bristled as he became acutely aware of the danger, they were now in. Luckily with his senses on alert, he saw out of the corner of his eye, the Ruby ring Rhys wore on his right index finger pulse a soft glow briefly.

Tending to Rhys, Cole shifted him onto his back and took his jacket off and rolled it to place under his master's head. Placing his head against his chest, he could hear Rhys breathing barely. While weakened, his chest did rise and fall and aside from the loss of consciousness, he appeared fine.

Trying to strategize his next move, Cole did not want to leave Rhys just lying in the dirt. Looking from the horses to the fallen goblins and orc, Cole began to formulate a plan. He would try to get Rhys back on his horse and then tie his horse to the other and walk them back. He did not feel comfortable riding after being thrown and wanted to be ground level in case Rhys fell...but how to get him on the horse. Rhys was so much taller than Cole and Cole doubted that he could lift him. But he'd have to try. They couldn't stay here.

Just as he got the confidence to try his plan, the sound of heavy galloping hooves alerted him. Pulling his dagger from a nearby corpse of a goblin, Cole sprung to Rhys' side and stood defensively, with the dagger at the ready, to meet the new arrival. Bracing himself for his first fight, adrenaline courses through his veins as the sound grew closer.

Much to his relief, a familiar face broke through the tree line. Bernard, mounted on his own massive horse, appeared and quickly dismount. Cole almost cried at the sight of him. He didn't know how he found him so quickly, but he was immensely grateful to not be alone. Looking over the dead bodies, Bernard without effort pieced together the chain of events and barely ask any questions. Only one was asked aloud, "Did you kill any of these?"

Shaking his head, Cole motioned to the collapsed Rhys. Bernard just grunted and immediately began to access the wizard. "Good. He didn't want you fighting just yet."

* * *

Seeing the Kenku grow lost in thought, Bernard gave him another clap on the shoulder before dismounting from the porch railing. Knocking the embers from his pipe against the side of the wood, Bernard adjusted his waistcoat before speaking.

"I know it likely came as a shock to see the elf fight... He always surprised me during our adventures. Hard to believe someone so scrawny could be so fierce..." Pausing as he mulled over his next words, Bernard continued, "'course, I bet he looked even more terrifying today... Since he had something to protect."

Shamefully Cole lowered his gaze and stared at his hands. He hated to be a burden. And that last comment didn't make him feel any better.

Seeing he did more harm than good; Bernard rubbed his chin. Tact was never his strong suit. But he had to try something, "don't be thinking that that is a bad thing... After Rhys got..."sick"...he threw himself into writing. He wrote day and night just to record all that he had learned. Became consumed with documenting 'verything- and he did that for a few years- wanted to get it all down before he died."

Hearing that last line made Cole recoil. He never wanted to think of a time without Rhys. But Bernard continued. "At first, I was against him bringing you here...but then it dawned on me... You were his chance to reconnect with the living after submitting himself to the dead. In a sense, you gave him a reason to stay. So don't for a second think that you are a burden or that him protecting you is somehow your fault. You've helped him more than you'll ever know."

Bernard looked inward toward the manor hallway to see Rhys, clad in a warm robe and a blanket thrown over his shoulder. Bernard knew that Rhys had been there a while and wanted to say something to benefit both of them. Rhys smirked slightly and bowed his head in thanks to Bernard before slipping back into the house. In truth, he didn't yet know what to say to Cole, but he was grateful Bernard took point, at least for a first pass. He would talk with Cole in the morning. Hopefully, by then, he could come up with something clever to say...he really doubted it though.

Bernard let out a heavy sigh. He disliked being the peacemaker, but the little Raven seemed to be at ease. Stretching, Bernard barked a command in his usual way, couldn't let on that he was growing soft. "Now off to bed with you. Chores await bright and early."

With rekindled spirits, Cole's pale eyes met with Bernard's in the dark. "Thank you..."

Bernard despite himself, allowed a smile to cross his face. "Get some rest. I'll check on Rhys."

Making sure Cole made his way back to his room, Bernard waited a bit before heading towards Rhys' study. Opening the door to the massive library, Bernard's hunch was correct- he knew he'd find Rhys here. Seeing the wizard busy with his books, Bernard with a jester type voice broke the stillness with a taunt.

"Little bit of overkill... don't you think? That was some high-level casting for a bunch of mangy goblins- I almost feel sorry for the lot. Almost."

The old scholar chuckled and shelved the book in his hand, "had to make due with what I had prepared. Didn't consider staging some lesser spells... Should have."

"Well, it got the job done either way. How's the arm?"

Direct and to the point as always, Rhys looked down from the ladder and just shook his head. "Necromancy spells embolden it...even such a meager one to raise five goblins... Rather pitiful."

* * *

Ward

2nd-level Abjuration

Casting time: 1 reaction

Range: Self

Components: V, S

Duration: 1 round

An invisible barrier of magical force appears and protects you.

Ray of Sickness

1st-level Necromancy

Casting Time: 1 action

Range: 60 feet

Components: V, S

Duration: Instantaneous

On a hit, the target takes 2d8 poison damage and must make a Constitution saving throw. On a failed save, it is also poisoned until the end of your next turn. At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 2nd level or higher, the damage increases by 1d8 for each slot level above 1st.

Danse Macabre

5th Level Necromancy

Casting Time: 1 Action

Range: 60 Feet

Components: V, S

Duration: Concentration, up to 1 hour

Five Small or Medium corpses you can see within range immediately stands up and becomes undead. You decide what action the creatures will take and where they will move during their next turn. Once given an order, the creatures continue to follow it until their task is complete.  
The creatures are under your control until the spell ends, after which they become inanimate once more.

Misty Step

2nd level Conjuration

Casting Time: 1 Bonus Action

Range: Self

Components: V

Duration: Instantaneous

Briefly surrounded by silvery mist, you teleport up to 30 feet to an unoccupied space that you can see.

Disintegrate

6th level transmutation

Casting Time: 1 action

Range: 60 feet

Components: V S M (A lodestone and a pinch of dust)

Duration: Instantaneous

A creature targeted by this spell must make a Dexterity saving throw. On a failed save, the target takes 10d6 + 40 force damage. If this damage reduces the target to 0 hit points, it is disintegrated.


	4. Joyride

**Rhys Silvermoor**

_Silver/Moon High Elf Wizard – Lawful Neutral _

**Lv **20 | **AC**11| **HP** 80

**STR **11 (+0)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **20 (+5) | **WIS **17 (+3) | **CHA **10 (+0)

**Bernard**

_Human Variant Fighter- Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **17 | **AC**12 (w/o armor) | **HP** 191

**STR **16 (+3)** | DEX **13 (+1) | **CON **16 (+3) **| INT **11 (+0) | **WIS **12 (+1) | **CHA **9 (-1)

**Cole **

_Kenku – Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **1 | **AC**11| **HP** 8

**STR **8 (-1)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **15 (+2) | **WIS **16 (+3) | **CHA **13 (+1)

* * *

Night had set over the mountains and the lights of the Silvermoor Manor had all been put out. With careful steps, making sure his clawed toes did not click against the hardwood, Cole crept from his room to Rhys' study. Ducking from corner to corner, he was constantly vigilant for Bernard was likely making his rounds- the man never slept.

Making it to the study without issue. Cole snickered to himself before setting off to his task. Lifting the end table off of the carpet corner beneath it, he kicked the corner free. Then he lifted Rhys' reading chair with difficulty and relocated it near the desk. The carpet was finally free and unobstructed. Brushing the fibers, Cole hurriedly rolled the carpet into his arms and escaped the room.

Taking the small rug into the courtyard, he spread it out on the ground and took a wary glance around. He had yet to be spotted. Smiling to himself, he knelt on the rug and whispered the phrase in Rhys' voice.

Awaking slowly, the carpet began to elevate into the air. Gripping the fringes, Cole let out a quiet chuckle in excitement. Clearing the treetops, Cole leaned forward and the boosted carpet took off like a rocket. Whizzing through the night air, Cole's closed his eyes briefly and extended his arms wide.

So this is what flying felt like.

It was the lifelong dream of all Kenku to be reunited with the sky. While he could not fly on his own, this carpet could act as a fine substitute. There were many things he failed at Magic, horseback riding, and the thought of fighting still caused him to freeze, he wanted to show Rhys that he could at least handle enchanted objects. He didn't want to constantly be a disappointment. So, he thought that any extra practice and experience would give him a marked advantage. The wind flicked his feathers and his joyride was going smoothly. However, steering the carpet would prove another matter. Taking a sharp turn caused the rug to jettison directly into a nearby tree.

With a loud thud, Cole smacked against the branch and was knocked from his perch. Within seconds, he was returned to the ground with an audible crunch to his right leg. Gripping his shin in pain, he rocked slightly trying to suppress his urge to scream. He knew he had broken something. But then another thought dawned on him- what if he lost the carpet, how much trouble would he be in then?! Casting a concerned look to the sky, he was relieved to see the rug was stuck in that branch.

Despite the protest of his injury, Cole stood and called the carpet down to him with another command. Assessing it for any damage, he found only a couple torn spots- surely these wouldn't be noticeable if he put the end table over it. Remounting the rug, Cole decided that was enough mischief for one night and flew back to the manor. This time, he focused on navigating home without further incident and tried to think of a way to cover up his adventure. The throb of his leg only worsened when the weight was removed. So long as he was standing, he might just get by with it. He'd have to come up with some reason to go to town to get it looked at...

The journey home was uneventful, and he rearranged the study furniture so that nothing looked out of place. Content with his handiwork, the tired bird went to bed.

The dawn chorus of birds had long started by the time Cole woke. Warm sunlight cascaded through the window cracks. With a groan, he was met by the pain of his leg. Somehow, it was worse now than last night. Gingerly untucking it from the covers, he tested his weight on it. Definitely much worse. Gritting his beak, it would be a long walk to town in his current state. After last night, he certainly didn't want to take a horse. He had been thrown already and didn't want to risk it again.

Now all he had to do was get past Rhys and Bernard. Grimacing at the thought of it, Cole changed his clothes and packed his day pack. After he left his room, the smells of breakfast spread through the manor. Making his way to the kitchen, Cole did his best to hide a growing limp.

As usual, Bernard and Rhys were in mid-conversation when Cole entered. Creeping in, Cole took his seat at the table. Bernard acknowledged him first as Rhys was over by the stove. "Well, the sleepyhead finally got up-"

Trying to play it cool, Cole replied as he always did, "Morning."

Rhys opened the oven door and reached in with his skeletal hand exposed and withdrew the sheet tray lined with biscuits. No need for an oven mitt with no flesh to protect. Placing in on the stovetop, Rhys turned and greeted Cole as well. "Did you sleep well?"

Cole caught the wizard's eye, nodded. "A bit. Had a hard time falling asleep."

Returning to the breakfast prep, Rhys served the plates and joined them at the table. While Bernard protested Rhys doing housework, truthfully, Rhys enjoyed cooking. Cole was grateful for whenever Rhys was well enough to do so since he was actually very good at it. Bernard, on the other hand, could barely make tasteless gruel or burnt toast. Immediately digging into his food, Cole wanted to avoid the conversation as much as possible- which would be a challenge since Bernard never ate, and preferred to talk in the morning. Though Rhys was aware Bernard did not need to eat, he always made him a plate, rather than let him feel purposefully excluded. Leaning forward, Bernard surveyed Cole more closely than normal. Maybe it was his guilty conscience playing tricks on him, Cole still tried to maintain his act.

In his gruff tone, Bernard took an interest in the bird's last comment. "Not like you to have trouble sleeping. Anything on your mind?"

Shaking his head, "Nothing in particular." Cole saw his opportunity open, "Did we need anything from town? I was thinking about going today."

The butler shifted in his chair and pondered for a moment. "Not that I can think of. I just went last week...but if you'd like to go, I can go with you."

Speaking without thinking, Cole blurted out a response, "No!" Said more assertive than he meant it, Cole bowed his head and stammered slightly before finishing his sentence. "No... it's alright. I thought I could try it on my own."

At this Rhys rose a curious glance, his single blue eye traced Cole's face and knew there was more going on. His first thought was to cast Detect Thoughts to inquire but he quickly banished the notion. He wanted to give Cole a chance. Clearing his throat and wiping his mouth with his napkin, Rhys leaned back in his chair and calmly inquired. "A trip alone? What are you up to?"

Thinking quickly, Cole sputtered, "I wanted to get craft materials...there is a project, I'd like to work on. I don't want to jinx it by talking about it before it is done." Telling some truth, Cole meant to purchase some enchanted thread to mend the carpet and to have his leg looked at. But he knew this was thinly veiled. Wanting to avoid any further questions, Cole gathered his plate and stood hastily to leave. However, as soon as he put weight on his leg, it gave way and he fell to the ground with a cry of pain. Alerting both of his company, Rhys and Bernard were out of their chairs in a heartbeat and by his side instantly.

Bernard had a comforting hand on the kid's shoulder as Cole clutched his leg and tried his best to suppress tears. It simultaneously burned and shot painful jolts that went through his entire leg. Even breathing seemed to hurt it.

Rhys knelt down and immediately began to diagnose and search for the issue. Placing a cool hand on his trembling forehead, he had no fever, there was no sign of blood or a cut, but as Rhys traced his hand down, he could feel the heat radiating from Cole's shin. Worried but focused, Rhys inquired, "Cole, what happened?!"

Carefully taking the bird's leg into his grasp, Rhys began to examine the leg. Using his knowledge of medicine, he quickly determined the cause. With a single prod of his fingertip, he sent a wave of fresh pain flooding Cole's entire body. "Your leg... there is definitely a fracture... Cole, explain."

Teary-eyed Cole knew the gig was up, but he was terrified of the trouble he'd get in. Rhys was firm but not upset when he insisted, "I'd prefer if you told me rather than reading your thoughts."

Whimpering, Cole closed his eyes and tried to block the pain. "I-I fell."

Bernard chimed in at this point with a boom to his voice. "From where and doing what? A break like that comes from a high fall."

"In the wood. I fell from a tree." While there was truth to that, both Bernard and Rhys could tell that there were some missing key story elements. Bernard tightened his grip on Cole's shoulder as if to squeeze the truth out of him. "And what were you doing in a tree?"

Confessing in spite of himself, he couldn't bring himself to lie to Rhys. Begging he spilled everything. "Please...please don't be mad." Sniffling at this point, Cole continued, "I took the carpet without asking and crashed it into a tree. I brought it back, but it has a few scratches."

Just as the bird was on the verge of tears, he was pulled slightly forward into a tight hug from Rhys, careful not to further injure the boy's leg. As soon as Rhys held him, the flood gates broke as tears streamed down his feathered face.

"It's alright, Cole. It's alright." Rhys' soothing voice brought him great comfort. But between the sobs, Cole insisted that he didn't mean to damage the carpet and that he would get the supplies to fix it. The more he spoke, the closer Rhys held him until the bird just sobbed into his father's shoulder.

After a few moments, Cole began to calm down. Rhys shifted away and began to re-evaluate the leg. Healing potions were not an option and healing spells were sparse. There were a couple of clerics in town, but Rhys was apprehensive to call upon them. It was a personal conviction to avoid their particular sources of magic- blind devotion always perturbed him on a deeper level than he cared to admit. He'd rather rely on his own means to resolve this. Looking down at his own hands, he thought about the Ring of Regeneration currently sitting near his dresser. That would take a while to heal but would accomplish the task. However, another thought crossed his mind – this was a far more direct approach, but it would be rather costly.

There was no anger in Rhys' gaze, only a wounded disappointment, and concern that hurt Cole more than the pain in his leg. "I am not angry...I am moreso concerned that you felt the need to hide this and that you thought I cared more of a piece of cloth than your well-being- that troubles me greatly."

Rolling up his sleeve, Rhys extended his skeletal hand so that it hovered over Cole's outstretched leg. "Cole, please remember this-no matter what happens, I will always be on your side and help you, however I can. You needn't fear me."

Guilt flooded over Cole and he wanted to say something in response but Rhys' hand began to glow. Just as it did, Cole felt the pain in his leg intensify and then abruptly come to a stop as an overwhelming warmth washed over him. The fatigue from the night adventure also faded away in an instant and Cole felt as if he had just awoken from a very good rest. Before Cole could question what Rhys did, the wizard spoke again, a bit more tired sounding than before.

"Try to put some weight on that and see how it feels." Rhys remained knelt next to Cole but motioned with his other hand to Bernard, who wordlessly hauled the Kenku to his feet. Feeling no further pain, Cole flexed his ankle and toes effortlessly. Whatever Rhys did, he felt good as new.

While testing his leg, he saw, much to his dismay, Rhys firmly grip the side of the table to steady himself. The wizard's body language had changed for the worse. His breathing was quiet but clearly strained and the color had drained entirely from his face. Cole knew those symptoms well as Rhys' condition started to flair. Even so, the wizard staggered to his feet and calmly smirked. "That should make the trip easier. Be safe on your way." Exchanging a quick glance with Bernard, Rhys lowered his gaze apologetically and began to walk away. Muttering in a tone trying to mask a sense of defeat, "I'm going to lay down for a bit."

Without another word, the wizard left shutting the door behind him. After listening to the footfalls recede, Cole and Bernard could hear the elf's cough. Bernard started to tidy the kitchen and clear the table as Cole stood very still. Bernard bit his tongue. That is not how he would have handled his sons but that was Rhys' call and though he said little, Bernard could see Cole was emotionally wounded and wouldn't forget that lesson.

Cole lingered in the kitchen and helped tidy up the dishes. Looking down sorrowfully, he noticed Rhys had barely touched his plate. Seeing Bernard handle the remaining cleanup, Cole slunk away back to his room and retrieved his travel pack.

Bernard then went to check on Rhys. Opening the door to the wizard's room, an all too familiar sight greeted him - Rhys lay on the floor near his bed with his right arm resting over his eyes. A fresh, blood-stained handkerchief clutched in his hand.

Bernard sighed entered the room, closed the door behind him, and then sat down beside Rhys. Flippantly he spoke, "So much for that good day you were having."

Rhys smiled sadly but did not move nor reply just yet.

Pouting, Bernard asserted, "I would have left it broken. Serves the boy right for sneaking around. He should know better than to toy with the items in the manor."

Lifting his arm briefly from his eyes, a hurt expression crept over Rhys' face before it dropped to an incredulous scowl. "That's a rather harsh punishment- No... you wouldn't have."

In a matter of fact tone, Bernard continued, "My boys broke plenty of bones and they had to mend on their own."

With a heavy sigh, "It wasn't the break that bothers me...but the lack of trust. What did he think I would do to him?" Rhys mused.

Seeing his friend distressed, Bernard shook his head, "I wouldn't let it worry you. My youngest was like that. She would try to hide whenever she did something wrong- Didn't want to earn my disapproval. Cole is the same, he thinks so highly of you and is terrified of rejection. I think it is a teenager thing."

Removing the arm from his eyes, Rhys remained on the floor but shifted his head to look towards Bernard. "You think it's his age?"

Scoffing with confidence and experience the mountain of a man answered, "Oh yes. All teenagers have at least one act of rebellion. Even the most pampered- they can have everything to their hearts' content and yet they will still find a way to make their parents' hair turn gray."

Comforted by the response, Rhys had started down a self-loathing path wondering if his parenting tactics had fallen short somewhere since Cole had never acted that way before. Borrowing the carpet without permission was just an act of curiosity- hiding an injury was another matter... He was still deeply concerned about Cole and was having second thoughts about letting him go to town. Seeking Bernard's advice further, since he was a father to five children and grandfather to several, his experience vastly outweighed Rhys'.

With a pondering air, Rhys inquired, "Was it wise to let him go to town?"

Scratching his chin, Bernard contemplated before answering, "The boy fessed up to his mistake and wants to get supplies to set it right. No harm there. I think he learned his lesson. Those tears were real."

Changing the topic, Bernard leaned forward to check on Rhys. "Speaking of lessons though, I didn't think Wizards could use healing magic."

Solemnly, Rhys returned his gaze to the ceiling and replied in a raspy voice, "We can't...that is the one school of magic that is beyond our grasp-" interrupted by another coughing fit, Rhys turned to his side and drew the cloth to his mouth- expelling more droplets of blood.

Confused, Bernard shifted closer and waited for the coughing to subside before asking further. "Then what did-"

With a marked wheeze to his breath, Rhys replied, "There is a necromancy spell* that allows for healing at the expense of the caster."

Putting the pieces together -this wasn't a usual flair up of his condition. Unsure of how badly Rhys just inflicted more damage to himself, the butler quickly studied the collapsed Wizard's frame. With a gruffness, Bernard displeased, growled, "Reckless as always… You definitely should have left it broken! I would have taken him to town to have it seen to."

Weakly but with conviction, Rhys continued, "Cole mustn't know that is what I did...he already feels bad enough. I will be fine—"

Gesturing his skeletal hand, he tapped the gold banded Ring of Regeneration on his right thumb, pointing it out to emphasize that he already had a plan to restore himself. Rhys closed his eyes, returned to lay on his back and breathed for a moment before continuing, "Would you be up to tailing him?"

Smirking and nodding in agreement Bernard started to rise to his feet, "I had planned on it. Just wanted to give him a bit of a head start. He won't be moving too quickly. Can I bring you anything before I go?"

Nearly asleep already, Rhys barely shook his head as a reply then softly answered, "I'll be fine...just need to rest."

Pulling the blanket from the bed, Bernard tossed it over Rhys' lower half and then left. He made a mental note to pick up some potions while in town, just in case.

* * *

Life Transference*

3rd level Necromancy

Casting time: 1 Action

Range: 30 feet

Components: V, S

Duration: Instantaneous

You sacrifice some of your health to mend another creature's injuries. You take 4d8 necrotic damage, and one creature of your choice that you can see within range regains a number of hit points equal to twice the necrotic damage you take.

Carpet of Flying

Category: Wonderous item

Item Rarity: Very Rare

Size: 3 ft. x 5 ft.

Capacity: 200 lb.

Fight Speed: 80 feet

Ring of Regeneration

Category: Items (Ring)

Item Rarity: Very Rare

While wearing this ring, you regain 1d6 Hit Points every 10 minutes, provided that you have at least 1 hit point.


	5. Death of a Fighter

**Rhys Silvermoor**

_Silver/Moon High Elf Wizard – Lawful Neutral _

**Lv **20 | **AC**11| **HP** 80

**STR **11 (+0)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **20 (+5) | **WIS **17 (+3) | **CHA **10 (+0)

**Bernard**

_Human Variant Fighter- Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **17 | **AC**12 (w/o armor) | **HP** 191

**STR **16 (+3)** | DEX **13 (+1) | **CON **16 (+3) **| INT **11 (+0) | **WIS **12 (+1) | **CHA **9 (-1)

**Cole **

_Kenku – Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **1 | **AC**11| **HP** 8

**STR **8 (-1)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **15 (+2) | **WIS **16 (+3) | **CHA **13 (+1)

* * *

Bernard age: 45  
Rhys age: 380 (_Rhys was not cursed/became sickly until he was around 488 years old_)

****_Approximately one hundred and fifty-eight years before the start of Cole's story. ****_

* * *

Arriving at the rendezvous point, a young and healthy Rhys carefully dispelled the telekinesis spell that had carried the remains of the recently fallen Fighter, Bernard. The Rogue took a seat nearby on a rock as they awaited the remainder of their group. It was folly to split the party as they did. Cost them their Fighter and they weren't sure how the others faired. Nursing his own injuries, the Rogue downed a potion. Feeling themselves to be clear of danger, Rhys set to the task of casting the ritual for Gentle Repose. Placing the salt and cooper pieces over the fallen fighter's eyes, Rhys then tore a piece of cloth to bind them in place. The spell would only stave off the rot and decomposition for as long as those components remained undisturbed.

Placing his hand over Bernard's eyes, Rhys muttered something unheard by the rogue. It was Bernard's sacrifice that allowed for their victory and escape. Having already sent a Message to the Cleric of the group, now they just needed to wait.

Their vigil barely lasted a couple of hours as the Cleric soon rounded the bend. Reporting that he had met up with the Ranger and other Fighter already before they began to scout ahead just to be sure the danger had passed. The Cleric was solemn and did not address the Wizard upon arrival. Rhys presumed that he may have just been focused and steeling himself for the pending spell, Rhys then proceeded to withdraw the remaining components from his bag. Removing the massive diamond from the golden pendant took some prying but Rhys eventually got it loose.

Then with eagerness and anticipation coloring his voice, the Wizard approached the Cleric. "I've got him prepped and secure with Gentle Repose. Are you fit to perform the Resurrection, or will you need to rest before?"

With an icy glare, the Cleric finally locked eyes with the Wizard. Then with venom to his voice, he curtly replied, "He was a sellsword... There will be no Resurrection. My God will not bring him back."

Stunned by the response, Rhys was momentarily taken aback. He thought the lack of response to the Message earlier was because the Cleric was preoccupied, after hearing that reply, he realized there was a darker reason. Defiantly, Rhys retorted, "The consult of the Divine is not required to cast that spell. I've got the diamond, we just need you to cast the spell, I'll assist-"

The Cleric interrupted and meant to silence the wizard with a harsh growl, "It is required for me."

Rhys' gaze grew considerably colder and he wordlessly questioned if they were really debating this. The Rogue bristled as the air itself seemed to be imbued with conflicting magic. Attempting to subdue his frustration at this exchange the Wizard switched tactics to try to persuade the Cleric through an emotional appeal.

Rhys spoke calmly but with a marked severity, "Bernard was a sellsword to provide for his wife and children- four sons and a daughter. While you may have had a grievance with that... we owe it to his family to at least send him home to them."

Another short scoff escaped the pompous Cleric before he hissed, "Having a family doesn't excuse his deeds. I cannot bring him back."

The blood began to boil within Rhys. Oh, the magic he could cast to bring down this arrogance. He wouldn't be able to keep his composure for much longer- the hypocrisy was too much. The Cleric was fine with Bernard's antics and relied on his skills in life but when Bernard needed him, he refused. Challenging the Cleric once more Rhys issued another jab, "Damn your oath and reliance on the gods. You have the magic-"

Drawing his Morning Star from his side, the Cleric took a combative stance and responded to the Wizard's challenge with spite. "Mind your tongue Wizard. There is a reason this spell is beyond your capabilities—Only the Divine should be able to judge the worthiness of life."

Looking from the tip of the extended weapon to the resolved and battle-ready face of the Cleric, Rhys' blue eyes were unwavering, and his face was still as stone. The battle line had been drawn. Were it not for the memory of his fallen friend, Rhys would have unleashed his rage. However, he recalled all the times Bernard had come to their aid, particularly just how many times Bernard had diverted the fight from the Cleric.

In a voice devoid of life and spoken with the same tone as a sinister curse, Rhys coldly replied, "And yet, Bernard judged you worthy to save countless times."

Walking away with confident steps, Rhys returned to his fallen companion's side where he began to cast another spell. This one taking a bit longer as it was a ritual. Within moments a spectral skeletal horse with a bluish glow about where his mane and tail ought to have been appeared next to Rhys. Equipped with a saddle and bridle at the ready, the Phantom Steed was certainly befitting a necromancer. Without returning a glance to the party, Rhys lifted remains onto the skeletal horse's back, carefully positioning him to rest on the shoulder blades of the beast before mounting it himself. Once mounted, Rhys gave one last look at his group. To his dismay, the Cleric was steadfast and had already stepped away. The Rogue knew better than to get between two casters in a squabble and remained silent, purposefully avoiding Rhys' gaze. With that, Rhys knew he could not sway them but that did not mean he had to remain either - recent events had made it abundantly clear they had diverged to different paths.

Rhys spoke loud enough to address them both, still in a calm but stern voice, although less threatening than before. "So be it. I wish you better fortune during the rest of your quest- this is as far as I go."

Rounding the corner, the out of breath the Ranger and Fighter returned just in time for Rhys to bow his head in farewell. The skeleton horse then took off at an impressive speed. Stunned at the sudden change the Fighter exclaimed, "What happened?! Why is he leaving?"

At this point, the Rogue stood up and hesitantly drew closer to the Ranger and Fighter. There was strength in numbers, and he was still shaken from that last exchange. Every fiber of his being told him that there was to be a magic duel. It was only due to the self-control of the Wizard was that narrowly avoided. Clearing his throat, the thief found the courage to speak, "It seems we have lost our Wizard. Holy-boy over here refused to bring back ol' Bernard so Rhys is taking him home. I doubt he will return."

The Ranger let out a sigh and lowered his head. No one exchanged glances with the Cleric, but all had their own opinion on the matter. They just couldn't bear any more loss to the party- losing their dual-wielding Fighter and Wizard in one afternoon was painful enough. The Rogue leaned close to the Ranger and whispered, "please don't let me fall...the Cleric certainly won't bring me back."

* * *

Rhys had traveled a fair distance with the speed of his conjured mount. Nightfall had long set as darkness consumed the land. With his dark vision, it mattered not. He was content to ride another day's worth just to put distance between himself and former allies, he was accustomed to spending nights awake studying his spells anyway. Rhys had to re-summon the horse at the top of every hour, but he was determined to make haste.

Mentally he poured through his spellbook as he rode. He did not yet have the power to cast the 9th level Wish spell, which could certainly be used to bring Bernard back...although he seemed to have a memory warning against its use to supplement a True Resurrection spell - why he could not recall. Not that that was a viable option anyway. He didn't have the capability to cast Wish. Not yet. (Rhys was only lvl 14 at the time, highest spell slot he would be able to cast would be 7th). He would have to make do with the spells he already had.

He specialized in raising the undead, skeletons in particular, but bringing back someone to look and act as their former self was a different matter entirely. His mind wandered to the tome he kept buried in his bag of holding but he dared not use any spell within that flesh bound book for this purpose. The consequences of using that Book of Vile Darkness might be too severe—Bernard might come back as a Lich or worse if he miscalculated.

After spending most of the night lost in thought, he finally dismissed his skeletal horse and made camp. He would rest and meditate on a solution. Careful tucking away the body into the tent Rhys finally rested.

As he slept, Rhys thought of a far-fetched but plausible idea. Awaking mid-afternoon, he quickly set to work. His first task was to empty his bag of holding and reviewed all his components and materials. After about thirty minutes of searching he finally found the contents he was looking for: An Elixir of Awakening - harvested from an Awakened Willow tree and given to him Green Hag, a finger bone, and a small pouch of bone dust. The other two components he could gather while they were fresh.

Pulling the Book of Vile Darkness from its resting place, Rhys quickly flipped through the pages to double-check a reference point. Then just as swiftly as he opened it, he returned the chains and cast the binding spell to subdue it once more before shoving it hastily back into his bag of holding. Content that this plan should work, he repacked his bag save for the materials he was about to use.

Removing the fallen man's vest and shirt, Rhys began to examine the deep chest wound that proved to be the fatal blow. Rhys withdrew a needle and heavy thread and began the painstaking task of suturing the wound shut. There would be no chance to fully close it yet but once reanimated, he may be able to seal it more permanently.

Placing the bone dust into a small bowl, Rhys then withdrew the small dagger from his belt and carved a small chunk of flesh from his forearm and then flicked it into the bowl as well. Holding the bowl under his arm, he let the blood drops soak the bone dust until the natural clotting stopped the bleed. Taking another piece of cloth, he bound his small wound and returned the knife his belt.

Then taking the elixir he meticulously placed droplets onto key points on Bernard's face: both eyes, the temple, and on the tongue. He was doubtful that this would work or have the intended effect, but the Hag's offerings rarely were misled. It was his best shot anyway. As a final precaution, he took the enchanted silver pendant from his own neck and placed it around Bernard's. He hadn't intended to keep it for as long as he did since he no longer benefited from its effects, it was just fortuitous that he still had it.

Pausing for a moment, Rhys looked over the handiwork. The wound was stitched, and all the components were in place. Putting his hand on Bernard's icy and unmoving hand, Rhys firmly held it. Then in a low voice, Rhys muttered an awkward but heartfelt apology. "I'm sorry... my friend. We - I failed you. I couldn't keep you safe. I may not be able to return you to your family either...I don't know if there would be enough time. I don't know what the consequences of this may be... Could be nothing, in which case, we can still use a Resurrection to bring you back. Worse case, you could be trapped... but I have to try something."

Steadying his nerves, Rhys the placed either of his hand to linger near the sides Bernard's face. With a concerned and furrowed brow, Rhys leaned forward and spoke to his company, "Alright Bernard... let's hope this works." A foul form of magic ushered from Rhys outstretched hands as he simultaneously cast Animate Dead and Awaken Undead at the highest level of casting he could muster- level 7.

Under normal circumstances, the reanimation takes mere moments to take effect, this time Rhys purposefully took his time. Willing the spell to focus more on the reanimation of the individual rather than the subjugation of the body. Watching like a hawk for any movement, Rhys noticed the first flick of a finger followed by a slight kick. It was working... Now the question remained, did what he brought to life have the same spark of being or was it an empty husk? It would take a while to tell.

Removing his hands from either side of the now undead being, Rhys lingered nearby to monitor the progress. It was not long before the formerly dead man began to stir. With a darkened and doubtful expression, Rhys leaned forward again. "Bernard... If you are in there and can hear me... Take your time."

The silence was deafening but Rhys remained steadfast and patient. As the midday sun traversed the sky and the bright yellow rays faded to orange, he remained crouched nearby. Eventually, his patience paid off as a very low, barely audible whisper caught his attention, "...r-r...hys?"

Moving closer, Rhys subdued the urge to grin. It was far too soon to tell whether he was successful or not. Placing a hand onto the man's temple, he cast Detect Thoughts to determine if there was any activity going on upstairs. Answering in a reassuring and calm voice, Rhys replied, "I'm here Bernard. I'm here. Can you hear me?"

With a subtle nod, the fighter moved but only slightly. Struggling to speak, he forced his vocal cords to cooperate and his voice reflected the strain. "c-can't see...I can't-... my arms..." Bernard began to twitch as sheer panic consumed his mind.

Placing the man's shirt over his torso to hide the stitched wound, Rhys then removed the cloth and copper pieces from his face. Quickly wiping away the salt, Rhys cautioned the fighter. "It's just a bandage. You won't be able to move just yet. That will come. But you may be able to open your eyes now...Bernard, I know this will be a lot to take in...do you remember where we last where?"

Silence again gave way to a weak reply. "Fuzzy... I don't know... How did I get here-" with a loud and painful groan Bernard shifted his head slightly before nearly yelling, "oh Gods! What has been dancing on my chest?!"

Surprised, Rhys inquired, "you can feel that?!"

"It's fading but..ugh...what..." Disoriented Bernard began to trail off.

"That's a good sign...pain isn't something you should be troubled with anymore." Rhys shifted his hand near Bernard's head and stroked his hair back in attempts to soothe the transition.

Blinking as his eyes adjusted, Rhys was just a blurry figure next to him. The only way he knew it was the Wizard because of his dark skin and light hair. Croaking as his voice gained some more strength, the fighter asked the most important question. "Am I alive?"

Rhys gave a sad smile before answering. "Technically speaking, no... I couldn't bring you fully back."

Puzzled and confused eyes searched desperately for answers. Rhys didn't want to overwhelm him with all the details but knew the fighter wouldn't be content without something. He chose his next words carefully but as a matter of fact, "there was a skirmish...you were impaled and-"

Interrupting the wizard's attempt to be kind and spare him the gruff fighter interjected, "And I didn't make it... Everything went dark and cold...it's still cold...Rhys, what did you do?!"

Grimly, Rhys looked away briefly. "You know my methods."

Silence fell once more between them. Before Rhys spoke again, "I wanted to give you a choice. What I have done, can still be undone, should you choose."

Pondering the offer, Bernard tested his range of movement; so far, he was only able to move his shoulders and neck. The rest of his body had yet to return but he could feel it gradually. Flexing his jaw, he tried to yawn but quickly realized he needed to draw no breath. That would take some getting used to. Focusing his gaze on the Wizard once more, Bernard managed to see more clearly now. The veil of death was lifted. With a sigh, Bernard replied, "Un-life… is better than no life… I imagine."

A very serious concern crossed Bernard's still returning mind and his eyes widened in horror at the prospect. Blurting out utterly concerned he asked, "I won't have to… eat people, will I?!"

Rhys' face dropped slightly comedically as he raised his hand to his face. Pressing his fingertips against the bridge of his nose, pinching between his eyes, he shook away any frustration. Barely an hour back from the dead and that was his first question. With an audible groan mixed with a chuckle, Rhys reassured him. "No." Pondering for a moment, Rhys continued, "You actually won't have to consume anything to sustain yourself." Then with a coy response, Rhys quipped, "You've seen my skeletons, have you ever seen them eat anything?"

"Well…no…but those were always under your control. Does that mean I am your servant?!" Drawing too quickly to a conclusion again, Bernard feared the answer.

Still amused at his friend's worry, Rhys had to pause and consider the source. He was the only within his party that had a deeper understanding of magic, let alone any significant years of study. Shaking his head, Rhys decided some explanation was desperately needed. "Do you feel like a servant?"

Pouting, Bernard replied, "I feel like death warmed over."

At long last, Rhys grinned. "A fair comparison. You were dead for about twenty hours. Now, you are what few would consider an Awakened Undead—you are beyond the grasp of hunger, thirst, pain, disease, and time. As you are now, you will remain…that is until you are killed again. Although, you'll need to be careful to avoid injury as your body will no longer naturally heal itself."

Contemplating the new state of being, Bernard flexed his fingertips and slowly raised his hands. He could feel their movement, but the lack of warmth to his own body was disconcerting. It was almost like being out in the snow of winter for too long. He could tell he moved but felt numb all the same. Feeling more of his strength return, Bernard took the chance to sit up assisted by Rhys. He placed his hand to his chest and removed the shirt to stare blankly at the stitches.

Rhys finally stood and stretched his legs. He figured he would give Bernard awhile alone to contemplate. As the hours passed, Bernard regained all of his functions and eventually stood and tested his sword stances. He was for all intents and purposes, back among the living, and yet so very apart. Seeing his friend was acclimated again, Rhys broke the stillness, "You have a chance at life again, at least in some form…but I'll need you to do something for me in return."

Incredulous but in no position to complain, Bernard grimaced, "Always a catch…"

Void of any command or arrogance, Rhys pleaded, "Return home. Return to your family and maintain a low profile– no more adventures. Your existence is very risky to us both…if you are discovered. If anyone finds out, we will be hunted."

The reality behind Rhys' concern was valid and apparent. After all, it took months of traveling together before Rhys would reveal he was a Necromancer – that alone brought scrutiny and persecution. Years of experience being ostracized and ridiculed made Rhys a very private individual. Now, Bernard had a slightly better understanding. While he did not have it easy as a sellsword and often had to fly under the radar as a wanted man… his new being would definitely cause an uproar if discovered by the wrong sort of people.

Seeing the notion sink in with Bernard, Rhys continued, "You'll have to stay far away from Clerics and Paladins...they be able to detect what you are…and likely will not act kindly to a sentient '_abomination-_'" Rhys said that word with extreme resentment and paused before continuing, "they don't cope well with magic beyond their understanding or holy scripts."

* * *

Gentle Repose  
2nd Level Necromancy  
Casting Time: 1 action  
Range: Touch  
Components: V S M (A pinch of salt and one copper piece placed on each of the corpse's eyes, which must remain there for the duration)  
Duration: 10 days  
Classes: Cleric, Wizard  
You touch a corpse or other remains. For the duration, the target is protected from decay and can't become undead.  
The spell also effectively extends the time limit on raising the target from the dead, since days spent under the influence of this spell don't count against the time limit of spells such as raise dead.

Resurrection  
7th Level Necromancy  
Casting Time: 1 hour  
Range: Touch  
Components: V S M (A diamond worth at least 1,000 gp, which the spell consumes)  
Duration: Instantaneous  
Classes: Bard, Cleric

Animate Dead

3rd Level Necromancy

Casting Time: 1 minute

Range: 10 feet

Components: V S M (A drop of blood, a piece of flesh, and a pinch of bone dust)

Duration: Instantaneous

Your spell imbues the target with a foul mimicry of life, raising it as an undead creature. The target becomes a skeleton if you chose bones or a zombie if you chose a corpse

Phantom Steed

3rd Level illusion

Casting Time: 1 minute

Range: 30 feet

Components: V S

Duration: 1 hour

Classes: Wizard

A Large quasi-real, horse-like creature appears on the ground in an unoccupied space of your choice within range. You decide the creature's appearance, but it is equipped with a saddle, bit, and bridle. The creature uses the statistics for a riding horse, except it has a speed of 100 feet and can travel 10 miles in an hour, or 13 miles at a fast pace.

Awaken Undead

Uncommon – Book of Undead

Level: Sorcerer, Wizard

Components: V, S, M, XP,

Casting Time: 1 standard action

Range: Close (25 ft. + 5 ft./2 levels)

Target: All mindless undead within a circle 25 ft. in radius + 5 ft./2 levels

Duration: Permanent (D)

This spell grants intelligence to mindless undead such as skeletons and zombies. Undead with Intelligence scores are unaffected.

Undead cannot gain more intelligence than typical of their original kind. Undead regain the armor and weapon proficiencies they had in life. Awakened undead gain a +2 profane bonus on their Will saving throws to resist control undead.

Awakened undead also gain +2 turn resistance (or retain their own turn resistance, if any, and if it is better than +2).


	6. Hawthorne College

**Rhys Silvermoor**

_Silver/Moon High Elf Wizard – Lawful Neutral _

**Lv **20 | **AC**11| **HP** 80

**STR **11 (+0)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **20 (+5) | **WIS **17 (+3) | **CHA **10 (+0)

**Bernard**

_Human Variant Fighter- Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **17 | **AC**12 (w/o armor) | **HP** 191

**STR **16 (+3)** | DEX **13 (+1) | **CON **16 (+3) **| INT **11 (+0) | **WIS **12 (+1) | **CHA **9 (-1)

**Cole **

_Kenku – Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **1 | **AC**11| **HP** 8

**STR **8 (-1)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **15 (+2) | **WIS **16 (+3) | **CHA **13 (+1)

* * *

Rhys sat hunched over with a blanket thrown over his shoulders at his massive desk littered with scrolls and books. His elbows rested atop the loose parchment and his face was buried in his hands. Bernard entered the room with a tray in hand and observed the pouting wizard. Picking up a few pieces of paper, Bernard set them aside and served a mug of hot tea. In his usual gruff tone, the sellsword hated to ask but he knew if he did not, the wizard would continue to brood. "What's the matter now?"

Bracing himself for a rant, Bernard stepped back and waited. Without removing his head from his hands, Rhys just seem to sink further into his chair. With a heavy sigh, he began, "In all my years… I have never seen such a thing. I've meditated and reviewed my schooling days- where I was an avid learner, studious, and would arrogantly consider myself scholarly... I am beginning to contemplate that just because one is a fine student, does not mean one is a capable teacher."

Furrowing his brow in confusion attempting to follow along where Rhys was going with this, Bernard pondered for a moment. Then realizing the day, he inquired, "Take it the lessons aren't going well?"

Withdrawing his face from his hands, Rhys leaned back into his chair and let out an exasperated proclamation with a coloration of defeat. "He has no inclination for magic. It alludes him like fog through a net." Gesticulating as he spoke, Rhys nearly knocked over the mug a couple of times before firmly planting it to the desk with his skeletal hand. "His inscriptions and incantations are perfect… yet nothing happens…It isn't as if they just fail to cast either. Oh no. That would be easy to remedy… In this case, nothing. No trace of magic is conjured regardless of how much he studies. Even entry-level scrolls yield nothing. I am at a loss…"

Rhys stood up from his chair and walked over to his bookshelf. Standing in front of it, aimlessly he looked on, in the same manner, one does standing before a pantry debating on whether they want to eat or not. Admittedly, Bernard was out of his depth when dealing with magic. He was a humble sellsword in life, where the goals were simple – don't get stabbed and put the pointy end of your sword through something in order to get paid. Trying to come up with a comparison or something to console the Wizard, Bernard grumbled, "Well…I don't think it is a lack of effort on your part. After writin' all those books of yours, I'd wager you'd know what you are doing…and besides, I've seen you cast, so I know you can. Think it might be just something with the lad?"

Begrudgingly, Rhys nodded slightly, "I am inclined to…wish it was not though."

Bernard still trying to cheer the wizard up replied, "Sounds like fighting: some people just don't have the stomach or skill for it. Can't be helped. Don't they say that Kenku are cursed beings, anyway? The cards might just be stacked against him."

Disliking an excuse of racial features, Rhys rose his hand to his head and rubbed his temples. "I've known other Kenku that can cast…."

Scratching his scruff on his chin, Bernard tried to shift the topic, realizing his blunder. "What else can you do then? Looks like you've exhausted your means here."

Listening half-heartedly, an epiphany suddenly struck. Rhys contemplative spoke aloud allowing the idea to form. "I supposed…I could take him to a college… I know of a few that would entertain a favor."

Bernard turned his head to the side, and questioned, "A College?"

With the gears turning in his head, Rhys grinned slightly, "Hawthorne would do…" Answering Bernard's question, Rhys explained, "There are eight schools of magic. I've studied them all at one point or another…but I would only consider myself capable in a handful. I wonder… What if Cole is inclined to one, I am not proficient in, like Enchantment?" Shuttering slightly, Rhys quietly continued with marked disdain to his voice, "Or even illusion."

Catching on to Rhys, Bernard provided an example to compliment the thought, "Like a Lancer trying to teach archery?"

Enthused by the prospect, Rhys seemed to spring a bit to live with a bit more pep in his step as he returned to his desk and started to write something on a nearby parchment. "Precisely. At the College, there is an entrance examination, used to help students align with their discipline sooner. I have run one for Cole already, but I may have easily missed something."

Grimly, Bernard did not want to take the wind out of Rhys's sails, but this entire plan seemed like a stretch, especially since it was counting on a shortcoming of Rhys. Incredulous and gruff, Bernard asked, "And how often do you miss something?"

Drawing himself back briefly, Rhys shrugged. "It is still within the realm of possibilities. Worse case, I have him assessed and they confirm my fear. Then we will just have to go from there."

* * *

****A few days later****

* * *

The large city was bustling with activity as the market and streets were littered with travelers and residents. Two more travelers were not noticed amongst all the commotion of daily affairs. Concealing his face expertly, Rhys led a mesmerized Cole through the streets as he studied all the new faces, sounds, and scents. Urging him to stick close, Rhys led the way to the Idle Hammer, a small but rather popular tavern.

Carefully making their way through the town, they made it to their first destination with ease. Holding the door open for Cole, the Kenku entered first and removed his hood. There were plenty of tables available with only a handful of patrons this late in the afternoon. They must have just missed the lunch rush. Looking around the room, Cole's attention was immediately drawn to a large mural painted on the wall directly behind the bar. Approaching it to get a better look, the centerpiece depicted a ruggedly handsome dwarf with a fiery red beard standing atop of a severed giant head with an ax held proudly above his head. What interested Cole was behind the dwarf stood the remainder of the adventuring party, all in epic stances. The ranger had his bow fully drawn, the fighter was withdrawing his sword from the head of another foe, but most importantly of all, there was an elf standing with one hand in the air and a spellbook in his other.

This was no ordinary elf, the painting was of a silver elf- one with grey skin, vibrant white hair, and intense icy blue eyes that were piercing even in a painting. He bore a stern and focused expression, but his face was unmarred. The resemblance was undeniable, the painting included Rhys! Turning to look at his mentor, Cole stopped dead in his tracks as he realized Rhys was no longer behind him. Quickly looking around the tavern with a worried glance, Cole did not spot him and froze when a very gruff and deep voice spoke from behind. "And what do you think you are up to?"

Turning to see a dwarf emerge from behind the bar, Cole noticed that his formerly red hair had turned pale with strips of white and based on how he had his beard braided, it looked like a strawberry and cream swirl. Were it not for the scowl on his face, the dwarf almost looked friendly. Stammering, looking desperately for Rhys, Cole was at a loss of words.

Frustration clearly growing the dwarf growled again, "You must be lost, lad. It's not often your kind wander here- The bars of ill repute are on the other side of town..."

It was then that another voice replied to the dwarf. "And if I am not interested in that kind of ilk?" Rhys had appeared silently to stand directly beside the dwarf. His calm voice startled both the innkeeper dwarf and the Kenku. Turning to face the tall elf, the dwarf bristled slightly before carefully studying the still cloaked figure that was uncomfortably close to him and had appeared without a sound.

The gruff inn keep stared into the shadow of the cloak as a wide toothy smile appeared from under his beard. "Rhys?"

The cloaked elf nodded and pat the dwarf on the head- a usually condescending act but it was a running joke between two very old friends.

Shouting, loud enough to disturb the patrons of the tavern and interrupting their lunch, the dwarf let out a hearty laugh. "Rhys!" Unable to contain himself, the dwarf wrapped his arms around Rhys' legs slightly above the knee and hoisted him into the air (less than a foot) and spun the elf in a tight hug. Rhys shifted his hips to maintain his balance with ease.

Rhys chuckled as the dwarf returned him to the ground. "Good to see you, Redguard."

The dwarf backed up and examined Rhys, his dark eyes beamed at the sight of his friend. "It has been an age! Lemme get a look at ya. After all these years and you still dress like a homeless wretch. I though them makin' you a Lord or whatever would at least get you some better rags." Pulling on Rhys' cloak, the dwarf poked his finger through a tattered piece to illustrate the holes.

"Subtility and humility were never to your tastes. After all this time, you still haven't painted over that monstrosity." With a loving quip, Rhys gestured over his shoulder towards the painting.

With another chuckle, the dwarf slapped Rhys on the back before gesturing to a nearby table. Rhys winked at Cole and similarly motioned for Cole to follow the dwarf. Catching on, the dwarf's face reddened, and he spoke directly to the Kenku. "A thousand pardons lad. Had I known you were with Rhys I never would have- forgive my quick judgment." Wanting to say more but without further insult, the dwarf stumbled over his words.

Rhys interrupted with a sly smirk, "Allow me to introduce Barius, former forge master and owner of the Idle Hammer. And this is Cole- my son and apprentice."

The dwarf eagerly took Cole's feathered hand into his and shook it vigorously. With eyes wide, he looked from Cole to Rhys. In disbelief he was astounded—he never expected Rhys to have an apprentice, let alone a family. "Bless my beard...Not just a travel companion but Rhys' boy no less! An extreme pleasure indeed! Please call me Redguard."

Jostled from the aggressive shake, Cole nodded. "Redguard?"

The dwarf released Cole and plopped into the chair and proudly proclaiming the next few lines he continued, "Earned that title back when Rhys and I were adventuring. Guarded a tower single-handedly and made the courtyard run red!" Reminiscing about the old days, the dwarf started at Rhys for a moment. "I'm tryin' to recall what they called your Da... Wasn't it Gravestalker?"

Grimacing at the old name, Rhys lowered his gaze and sunk into a chair. "Softly... Many may still recognize the old names."

"And what's wrong with that?! They were well earned!" Gesturing to the painting as Cole joined them at the table, the eager dwarf sought to brag a bit further. "You see that painting lad? We slew that pesky giant with a cleave of my ax. Then of all things, the next morning your Da animated its skeleton and used it as a siege ram. You should have seen the looks on their faces when that giant skeleton barreled through the gates." Chortling with laughter the dwarf trailed off of his story.

Rhys just shook his head. He never liked to brag about previous exploits, especially for the sake of his own vanity. Patting his friend on the shoulder, drawing him from the past. Rhys spoke in his usual calm tone. "How about we talk about present matters. Business still going well?"

With a happy nod, the dwarf replied, "Couldn't be better. Full house every night."

Rhys congratulated the dwarf and then inquired, "Very glad to hear it. Without imposing, you wouldn't happen to have a room or two available for a couple of days, would you?"

With delight, the dwarf nearly bolted from his chair with glee. "Only my finest for an old friend! With you here, I'll finally have proof for my regulars! They won't be able to deny the word of a wizard."

With a slight groan, Rhys could only imagine the grueling hours listing to the tavern banter. Cole, on the other hand, shared the excitement of the dwarf and found himself unable to hide it. With as boisterous as the innkeeper had been, he would surely get to hear some fantastic stories. He loved the old stories and wished Rhys would tell more of them. With a happy chirp, Cole chimed in. "That would be wonderful."

Apologetically, Rhys addressed them both gently, preparing them for disappointment. "I'm afraid we have business at the College. Not sure how much time for revelry we will have."

Defiantly, the dwarf protested, "Surely, a wizard could make time."

Both Cole and the Dwarf had a measure of pleading to their eyes. Yielding after a moment or so, Rhys sighed. "That said... We will likely be here for a few days... a couple of hours won't hurt."

Met with cheers the dwarf stood from the table and bellowed for his staff to start prepping the master suite for his company. Turning, with that stupid grin still plastered to his face, Redguard spoke, "Won't take them long to tidy the rooms. The master suite has two comfortable beds and a private chamber with a copper tub. Bit late for lunch but if you're hungry I can go whip up an early supper?"

Bowing his head, Rhys thanked his friend and then withdrew a coin pouch from his pocket and tossed it to the dwarf. Catching it with ease, the strawberry bearded man didn't need to count it. He knew Rhys paid double for discreetness and always insisted on paying at least full price upfront for the accommodations. He had done so ever since this tavern was established and the dwarf still had the scars from the last time he tried to undercharge the wizard.

Clearing his throat, Rhys gestured towards Cole, "Thank you, but nothing for me...Cole might be interested."

Hearing his stomach growl, Cole nodded eagerly. "Yes please."

With a wave, the dwarf disappeared into the kitchen. Rhys leaned forward to address Cole very softly, purposefully so that his voice did not carry. "Keep a sharp eye and go directly to the room after you eat."

Slightly confused by the order, Cole looked over at Rhys and tried to study his expression. But under his cloak, he could read nothing. Speaking in a low whisper to match Rhys, Cole asked, "Where are you going?"

Clever as always, the apprentice anticipated the master was up to something-what, he could never guess though. A slight smirk appeared from the cover as the silver elf stood from his chair. "To survey the College, I'd like to check it out before we both go in the morning."

Nodding in agreement, Cole figured he would only slow Rhys down if he planned to go stealthily. Patting the bird on the shoulder before he left, Rhys made his way to the college campus.

* * *

Having made good time to the sequestered campus, Rhys easily slipped in with the crowd of students and faculty shuffling between lectures or new designations. After his travels, it always felt strange to be among so many magic users, since he was often alone or would encounter another user so seldom—to see this level of concentration was amusing.

Slipping through the familiar courtyard, Rhys admired how little it had changed since his brief time here. It had been years since he was last here and yet the same buildings stood, the statues, while a bit more weathered had not changed, and the marble staircases had only degraded slightly. There were a few additions here and there and many attempts to preserve the existing structure either through magic or natural means. Tracing the familiar pathways, Rhys discreetly cast Locate Object and followed the trail to the library.

Opening the ancient room, Rhys managed to avoid the detection of the librarian at the front desk as he was busy checking in a large stack of returns. With quick but silent steps, Rhys was at ease and back in his environment. How many years had he spent collectively surrounded by books? Looking over the seemingly endless number of high shelves, he pondered just how many of these he had not read- very few if he'd wager a guess, likely just new publications mainly.

Stopping to examine a nearby shelf, Rhys placed a gloved hand onto the spines. Tracing the known names was allowed himself this brief distraction. His target was close, but he didn't want to alarm him just yet. It was then he heard a nearby dejected sigh and light thump. Looking for the source of the noise, Rhys quickly found a student with his head pressed firmly against a desk with a scroll beneath it.

Frustration consumed the youth as he banged his head against the table again. Rhys, knowing that state all too well interceded. Placing a hand on the kids' shoulder, he pulled the scroll from beneath him. Careful to only show the unblemished side of his face, Rhys spoke softly. "It isn't worth that headache."

Quickly reviewing the prompt on the scroll, Rhys chuckled. It was an old riddle, one meant to confuse and frustrate. Seeing as it had its intended effect, he walked back over to the bookshelves and within just a moment of searching, pulled forth the book containing the answer. Returning to the kid, who at this point was trying to figure out who this unknown professor was. He placed the book and the scroll back on the table. In a voice of reassurance, Rhys tried to encourage the pupil, "Read chapter 5 and then chapter 3. The sequence will make more sense that way."

Still trying to figure out who this heavily cloaked man was, the youth replied, "Who-"

Rounding the corner with a stack of books in hand, an older man stopped dead in his tracks as he listened in and immediately recognized that voice. Interrupting the youth's question, the older professor dropped the books with a loud bang. Startled by the sound, the kid turned away from the cloaked man to see the Headmaster standing in front of him with a pile of books at his feet.

Speaking first, the Headmaster approached with staggering footsteps. "It can't be."

With a slight smirk, Rhys rose his hand to his hood and brushed it off revealing his silvery grey hair amongst the orange glow of the lanterns. Seeing the Headmasters jaw drop slightly, the youth looked up at the figure and flinched slightly at the sight of his damaged face and striking features.

In a flash, the two men disappeared instantly. Leaving the library without a sound. Not wanting to be involved any longer, the kid hastily packed his bag and left.

* * *

Moments later, both the human Headmaster and Rhys arrived in the Headmasters office, the teleport spell cast by the human was swift but not as smooth as Rhys. Steadying his footing upon the arrival, Rhys braced himself just in time for the grey-haired senior of a man to place a hand on his shoulder. The aged human's eyes reflected a youthful excitement as he was momentarily transported back to his earlier days. He couldn't believe that Rhys was actually standing in his office. This elfish wizard was greatly admired by the Headmaster- to the point of fanboy levels. Remembering himself he released the elf and cleared his throat. Trying to maintain a professional air the Headmaster spoke, "So delighted that you actually made it. Your message said we shouldn't expect you until tomorrow morning."

Rhys bowed slightly and returned, "Forgive my intrusion. The trip was uneventful and faster than expected."

Dismissing the apology quickly, the Headmaster shook his head, "Nonsense! You are always welcome at any time and without warning." Gesturing for them to take a seat, the Headmaster leaned in eagerly for the chance to speak with Rhys. After they were both seated, the Headmaster continued, "But speaking of your letter…you mentioned you had an apprentice you wanted some assistance with but no more details."

Rhys purposefully was vague in all his letters in case they were ever intercepted. It was an old habit that he saw little reason to break. Speaking in a low but calm voice, Rhys elaborated a bit further. "Ah yes… In recent years, I have taken in a ward, a Kenku, Cole…Cole has had a passion for magic even as a small child. But, despite his efforts, there is a peculiar circumstance I've not encountered before—it appears that he cannot cast—even via a Scroll, the effects of magic elude him."

Surprised to hear that Rhys had adopted an apprentice, the Headmaster was hit with a wave of jealousy at first. Years ago, he had begged Rhys to take him on as a permanent student when he was a teenager himself. Rhys had taught him a couple of spells before departing but urged the Headmaster, Zolken, to attend a college to further his skills. Moving past the bit of envy, the Headmaster contemplated that description. While it was not uncommon for an individual to be unable to cast spells, it was certainly odd for one to not even be able to use a Scroll, not a Spell Scroll, where the magic was already embedded within the paper. Curious what Rhys had in mind, the Headmaster inquired, "The boy cannot activate even a prepared Scroll? What about magic items?"

Rhys casually replied, "Those seem to maintain their effects. Potions and enchanted items work but spells and scrolls used by the boy are nullified and leave no trace that anything was ever cast or attempted to be."

The Headmaster leaned back in his chair, Rhys certainly had him intrigued. "I should like to meet this, Cole…What did you have in mind, bringing him here?"

Rhys yielding, slyly replied knowing the full weight and gravitas of what he was about to propose, "I was hoping to trade favor for a favor."

Surprise was the tone of the day. First, the elusive wizard appeared in the library, and now he sat in Headmaster's office and extended a favor—which to the wizarding community was more than just a meager exchange. To have a powerful wizard indebted to you was exceedingly rare and immeasurable in value. Stunned at the offer, the Headmaster had to compose himself before answering, "A favor from the Great Rhys Silvermoor, that it too irresistibly tempting. How can I or the College be of service?"

With a slight look of defeat mixed with desperation, Rhys was determined not to jinx the outcome of the exam but wanted to prepare both himself and the Headmaster for the most plausible outcome. "I'd like to enlist some of your professors to run a private placement assessment to determine which, if any, school Cole is inclined towards. I have already run such an examination myself but would greatly appreciate other opinions."

With a curious eyebrow raise, it was a rare thing to such a skilled wizard ask for such a meager thing. Favors were not traded lightly, surely there must be more to this. But then again, Rhys was always very wise and valued the consult and skills of others. Stroking his bread flecked with grey, the wizard pondered for a moment. What Rhys asked for was a trifle and could be done within three days, in fact, he knew precisely the Professors to ask. It was odd that Rhys went through all this trouble over something so minor, in the back of his mind, the Headmaster's first reaction was to perform the exam pro bono due to their friendship. But he could clearly see this meant a lot to Rhys—why and for what aim, he was not sure. But if he offered to do this exam for nothing, Rhys may doubt his sincerity. In any case, this was a golden opportunity and the Headmaster dared not let it pass him by. With a grin, the elderly human extended his hand forward to strike the deal. "A favor for a favor… but kindly permit me time to consider what we shall ask in return, perhaps even for future use?"

Agreeing to the blind request, Rhys anticipated that the Headmaster would pocket and preserve the favor for a later time before he even offered it. Shaking the extended hand, Rhys replied, "Naturally. I sprung this request on you with little forewarning. I should expect the same in return. I do ask that you instruct the professors to withhold their findings from Cole…If it is as I suspect, I would prefer to be the one to tell him the results."

* * *

*****Post examination a few days later, Rhys and the headmaster met in the Headmaster's office to discuss the findings*****

* * *

Pouring a fine wine into two glasses, the elderly man extended a sympathetic apology to Rhys. The wounded elf took the glass but then set it down as he continued to review the results of the exam and notes submitted by the proctors. Taking a sip from his own glass to fortify himself, the Headmaster spoke, "You know…. while he may not be a wizard, there are other ways to obtain magic. Sorcery is unlikely given we found no trace of a bloodline. But a Bard is also a possibility; he has a great talent for memorization and mimicry given his race… And there is also the potential that with a patron…I've met many capable Warlocks—"

Silenced by Rhys' gaze, he could feel the aura of the wizard shift and while his expression was neutral, his remaining clear eye betrayed his displeasure. Apologetically, the Headmaster tipped his head before continuing. "I know your stance on that subject but that does not refute the fact that Warlocks are becoming more and more commonplace. There are many decent patrons out there that want the same as you— the proliferation of magic."

Setting the papers aside, they proclaimed exactly what Rhys already knew. Cole scored abysmally in all fields. Frustrated that he would not be able to fulfill his promise to the young bird, Rhys sighed and responded to the Headmaster, "It is not their desires that trouble me…it is their methodologies. Warlocks don a magical façade and can only scratch the surface of what true magic can offer with their borrowed talents."

Taking a seat next to the defeated elf, the Headmaster leaned forward with a pensive gaze, "And yet, that façade might make the boy happy."

Unable to make an argument against potential happiness for his apprentice, Rhys remained quiet for a few moments. Gathering the report once more, Rhys studied it again. Then much to the surprise of the Headmaster, a small flame licked from Rhys' fingertips and it burned the parchment he held. In a puff of smoke, the examination results were destroyed. Shaking his head, Rhys tried to clear his mind before stating, "I don't want him limited to parlor tricks…"

Parlor tricks called to mind their very first conversation, the Headmaster sadly smiled and reflected briefly on his first meeting with Rhys. He was truly surprised that the elf had lasted this long. It had been nearly fifty years since Rhys destroyed the Arch Lich and recovered in the tavern owned by the Headmasters' father. Even as weak as he was then, he still taught the young Headmaster his first spell, prestidigitation, and started him on his own path of magic.

That is what made this exchange so personal and difficult. He could tell Rhys wanted this boy, Cole, to succeed. But the Headmaster could sense there was more to this desire. The years had not been kind to Rhys. He still sported the same injuries, barely scarred over, from the Arch Lich fight and only seemed more haggard. Perhaps this Kenku was meant to be one of the last elements of Rhys' legacy…Drawing his attention from his thoughts, the Headmaster decided now was as fine a time as any to broach another touchy topic. "I suppose while on the topic of ill news… how have you been Rhys?"

With a reassuring nod, Rhys replied in a nonchalant way, "I am alright—still above ground, more or less."

Pressing further the Headmaster would not take a half-baked answer, not when he could possibly improve or assist the situation now that he was an advanced wizard in his own right, "Truly?... I am admittedly worried."

Seeing the concern mark the Headmaster's face, Rhys was too tired to protest and wearily chuckled. "I am getting old…"

That last comment opened the door the Headmaster was waiting for, "Every time we meet, you seem more taxed than before. I wish you would move here. Imagine if you'd join us as a regular instructor... not to mention, we might be able to help—"

Stopping the notion before it was fully formed, Rhys held up a gloved hand and put on a kind smile, "A very generous offer but I have grown fond of my hermitage. It is nice to have the quiet of the mountains... Besides, I fear my presence would only corrupt your students. The world has little need for more necromancers. They would do better to study other arts."

With eyes fixed on Rhys' gloved hand, the Headmaster spoke with a defeated sigh, "Even so... Rhys, may I?"

Gesturing to Rhys covered hand, the Headmaster extended his own. Wordlessly complying for an old friend, Rhys removed his glove, rolled up his sleeve to his elbow and extended the skeletal arm forward. Stunned to see that the skeletal features had progressed even further, the Headmaster carefully examined it. There was a glow to the tips of his fingers as magic investigated further.

Pondering aloud as he reviewed the specimen the Headmaster mused, "We could try Remove Curse...least long enough to separate this from you."

It was kind that even after all these years the lad still tried to tend to Rhys. But in a matter-of-fact tone, Rhys dismissed the already attempted feat, "That would just leave me without a hand. This curse is bound to me and will remain... Even a Clone cannot circumvent it…. I suspect that only a Wish may remove it since it was a Wish that caused it…but the risk to cast that again is too great."

Horrified at the notion, the Headmaster met Rhys' gaze. There was truth to his expression, Rhys had clearly thought this through, and from his tone, had even attempted some questionable acts during his study of this curse. Unable to think of any recourse to aid his friend, the Headmaster softly whispered, "…It is eating you alive."

Maintaining his sad smile Rhys attempted to comfort the Headmaster, "All magic comes with a price…"

* * *

Teleport

7th Level Conjuration

Casting Time: 1 action

Range: 10 feet

Components: V

Duration: Instantaneous

This spell instantly transports you and up to eight willing creatures of your choice that you can see within range, or a single object that you can see within range, to a destination you select.

Identify

1st Level Divination

Casting Time: 1 minute

Range: Touch

Components: V S M (A pearl worth at least 100 gp and an owl feather)

Duration: Instantaneous

You choose one object that you must touch throughout the casting of the spell. If it is a magic item or some other magic-imbued object, you learn its properties and how to use them, whether it requires attunement to use, and how many charges it has, if any. You learn whether any spells are affecting the item and what they are. If the item was created by a spell, you learn which spell created it. If you instead touch a creature throughout the casting, you learn what spells, if any, are currently affecting it.

Remove Curse

3rd Level Abjuration

Casting Time: 1 action

Range: Touch

Components: V S

Duration: Instantaneous

At your touch, all curses affecting one creature or object end. If the object is a cursed magic item, its curse remains, but the spell breaks its owner's attunement to the object so it can be removed or discarded.

Clone

8th Level Necromancy

Casting Time: 1 hour

Range: Touch

Components: V S M (A diamond worth at least 1,000 gp and at least 1 cubic inch of flesh of the creature that is to be cloned, which the spell consumes, and a vessel worth at least 2,000 gp that has a sealable lid and is large enough to hold a Medium creature, such as a huge urn, coffin, mud-filled cyst in the ground, or crystal container filled with saltwater)

Duration: Instantaneous

This spell grows an inert duplicate of a living creature as a safeguard against death. This clone forms inside a sealed vessel and grows to full size and maturity after 120 days; you can also choose to have the clone be a younger version of the same creature. It remains inert and endures indefinitely, as long as its vessel remains undisturbed.

At any time after the clone matures, if the original creature dies, its soul transfers to the clone, provided that the soul is free and willing to return. The clone is physically identical to the original and has the same personality, memories, and abilities, but none of the original's equipment. The original creature's physical remains, if they still exist, become inert and can't thereafter be restored to life, since the creature's soul is elsewhere.

Wish

9th Level Conjuration

Casting Time: 1 action

Range: Self

Components: V

Duration: Instantaneous

Classes: Sorcerer, Wizard

Wish is the mightiest spell a mortal creature can cast. By simply speaking aloud, you can alter the very foundations of reality in accord with your desires.


	7. After the Wish

**Rhys Silvermoor**

_Silver/Moon High Elf Wizard – Lawful Neutral _

**Lv **20 | **AC**11| **HP** 80

**STR **11 (+0)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **20 (+5) | **WIS **17 (+3) | **CHA **10 (+0)

**Bernard**

_Human Variant Fighter- Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **17 | **AC**12 (w/o armor) | **HP** 191

**STR **16 (+3)** | DEX **13 (+1) | **CON **16 (+3) **| INT **11 (+0) | **WIS **12 (+1) | **CHA **9 (-1)

**Cole **

_Kenku – Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **1 | **AC**11| **HP** 8

**STR **8 (-1)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **15 (+2) | **WIS **16 (+3) | **CHA **13 (+1)

* * *

With the Cleric unconscious but stable, the Druid woozy from massive blood loss, the Barbarian heavily wounded, and the Paladin completely incapacitated, the exhausted Wizard exchanged worried glances with the Druid. The Arch Lich loomed precariously nearby. They had managed a tactful retreat but found themselves cornered. Whispering to the Barbarian, the Wizard had one last card to play. "Gather the party, if you can, carry the Paladin, and have the Druid awaken the Cleric. Stay close and do not come for me... If I am not back in a few moments, run."

Wanting to protest, the Barbarian tried to snarl a response but the resolution in the voice of the Wizard silenced him. There was a solemn and condemned air about him- he meant to end this here and now. After tracking this Arch Lich for years and finally getting so close to destroy him... Reluctantly, the warrior agreed and shifted to relay the plan to the Druid. Rhys nodded and vanished around the corner, heading back to where they had escaped.

The moments ticked away painful slow. The Druid had managed to awaken the Cleric and Paladin but only just. They were in no condition to fight further. They were too weakened to even question what was going on. They all sat in silence and pondered the futility of their escape. It wasn't until a deep and unsettling rumble started to cause rocks and dust to fall from the cave ceiling, did the party know something happened. It felt as if an earthquake had started and they were in the heart of the fault. Just as the Barbarian stood, Rhys rounded the corner, blood trickled from the left side of his body and his left hand hung limply at his side.

Breathing heavily and with pained effort, Rhys explained, "We've got to go. The structure is collapsing."

Thankful to see the party all awake, Rhys rose his useable hand and cast teleport. Within a flash, the entire party was transported above ground, just in time to watch a sinkhole to consume the former caverns below. (Teleport is a level 7 spell, 7 d10 damage for casting a spell after Wish, 46 necrotic damage)

Just as the party reacclimated themselves above ground, the stale air of the tomb had been replaced by the fresh forest. Having the where-with-all to turn their gaze to the Wizard, the Druid was stunned to see the Wizard hunched over. Coughing violently, Rhys collapsed to his knee and expelled a massive pool of blood to the ground. Before his teammates could rush to his side, he collapsed and lost all consciousness.

* * *

After the rumbling earth had settled, the massive caverns and tunnels that were once part of the Lich's lair had caved in completely. Only an uneven terrain marked their location. For the first time in over three decades, the heavy clouds parted, and direct sunlight caressed the town. People took from their houses and business came to a halt to admire the anomaly.

A small mob had formed for the change could only mean one thing- the adventurers were successful. Abled bodied townsmen where the first to arrive at the scene. The adventuring party lay battered and exhausted above the freshly turned soil. With haste, the injured were treated and then loaded into a wagon to be escorted back to town.

While it was a small town, there were a couple of low-level clerics from a monastery to help revive and heal their wounds. After a few days rest, the party was on the mend. Only the Wizard had yet to regain consciousness. His condition seemed to worsen as the days went by. No healing magic seemed effective. His left hand had rotted down to the mere bone but seemed to be infused with magic allowing it to maintain its structure and preventing its removal. Similarly, the left side of his face, torso, and remaining arm lost flesh, exposing muscle, and had deep gouges torn from it—necrotic damage of some kind. No telling what happened internally to cause that mass of blood he coughed up before falling into his current state.

The priest had never seen such injuries such as these and neither had the party. They rented rooms in the tavern and intended to stay till they could figure out what happened. The host was generous and did not charge them, the evil that had cursed the land was gone, the least he could do what shelter the ones who destroyed it- especially, as they were likely waiting for a party member to die.

It was a surprise to all when the Wizard woke. He was terribly frail, during the ten days of unconsciousness, he had wasted away. His cheeks were gaunt and dark pools engulfed his exhausted eye. He could barely speak the first night and could not sit up.

Burning with questions, the party sat vigil by his bedside to find out what happened.

The next morning, he was able to drink a little but had to choke it down.

Unable to contain themselves further, the female Cleric inquired, "What happened?"

Rhys barely above a hoarse whisper, "It is done...t-the Lich is gone."

The gruff Paladin chimed in and started a barrage of questions, "Gone? As in destroyed, dead, banished? What did you do?"

Starting to fade from consciousness again, the Wizard mumbled, "Torn asunder...won't be back. Ever."

Scolding the Paladin's gruffness with her glance, the Cleric continued in a soft and kind tone, "How? How did you manage to-"

Fighting to remain awake, Rhys issued a confident but sorrowful reply, "A wish." Though his face was bandaged, the single blue eye looked down slightly at his left hand. Painfully raising it to inspect it, Rhys shuttered at the effort. Much to the confusion and horror to the party, the limb was responsive. It was a completely skeletal appendage, yet, it moved just like a normal hand.

Concern quickly shifted to suspicion and anger. The Paladin was always leery of the Wizard, but the last act had gone too far. His senses were alert and suspected something foul. For all he knew, the Wizard could be on his way to becoming a Lich himself. Rushing to the bedside, the relentless armor-clad hand hoisted Rhys up and demanded an answer. "By the gods, what have you done?!"

Tightening his grip on the elf's shirt, blood began to appear from under the bandages around his chest. With a sad and understanding look, Rhys met the anger and fear of the Paladin with a reassuring but foreboding answer. He did not have to read his mind to know what thoughts were behind his trembling fist, "If you...want to… kill me ...now is your best chance. I won't… be able to resist."

Horrified at the revelation, the Druid stepped forward and placed a hand onto the Paladin's holding Rhys by the shirt. "Release him."

Still trembling the Paladin defiantly followed. When Rhys was let go, he slunk back into the bed, listlessly like a falling leaf. However, such sudden jostling ignited his internal organs. His chest ached as if stabbed and heartbeat painful in protest. Another coughing fit produced more blood from his mouth. Leaning over the bedside as to not promote further choking, Rhys slipped out of consciousness again.

Taking pity on him, the Druid carefully tucked the Wizard back into bed. Propping the pillows to give for better airflow.

Then with burning eyes, gestured for the party to leave the room. Complying as they filed into the hallway, a shouting match erupted as soon as the latch to the door clicked. With an angry snarl, the Druid launched into the Paladin. "What the hell is wrong with you?! He barely woke and you decide now is a good time for a forceful interrogation!"

In a flippant and equally upset tone, the Paladin answered the challenge, "Are supposed to wait for days in the dark! That Lich could still be out there or worse, in him!"

Attempting to be the peacemaker, the Cleric stood in between the Paladin and Druid with her arms extended. Then in a low and reassuring tone, she meant to quiet them, "We don't know what happened." Shifting her gaze to the Paladin, she continued, "You are I both were out pretty early on. Barbarian and Druid were the only ones still awake before he ran off..."

The burly Barbarian scratched his head and just shook it in disbelief. He couldn't believe that the Wizard had managed to regain consciousness. He had already placed a bet that he was dead. Dumfounded, he replied honestly, "I admittedly don't know what the hell he did but... I know that if Rhys wanted us dead, he would have let the earth swallow us like it was planning."

Trying to piece things together, the Cleric contemplated aloud, "He said it was a Wish... Do you think he actually managed to cast that spell? That is one of the highest..."

Interjecting as both the Druid and Cleric were the next most adept magic users of the group, the Druid helped finish the Cleric's thought, "And the most taxing… the fool cast teleport immediately after to make sure we were safe. That comes at a very heavy price." Placing their hand onto their forehead to brush the hair out of their eyes, it finally began to sink in how reckless the Wizard had been. No wonder he was out of commission and in such a sorry state. Normally, just casting Wish alone requires multiple days of rest, with naught but exceedingly light activity until the caster can recover. Rhys cast a 7th level spell on five individuals successfully immediately after.

Still displeased with the party defending the Wizard, the Paladin barked, "That might explain his wounds and sickness but that does not explain his hand! That thing reeks of evil!"

Incredulously, the Barbarian had given up questioning Rhys' methods long ago. The Wizard was capable of some creepy shit but at the end of the day, he was a book-loving goof. Sure, if ever he turned evil, he would be terrifying, but the likelihood of that happening was so slim, the warrior just dismissed the thought. Turning to the Paladin, the Barbarian just gave a shrug of his shoulders, "Is that really out of the norm for him though? He was always got some frightening spells… but he hasn't used them for evil purposes…"

In the back of her mind, the Cleric agreed with the Paladin's concern. She just disagreed with his brashness. Pensively, she sought to win the Paladin back to their side. "His condition… particularly that hand seems bewitched...but the question is by whom or what. I tried to remove it when bandaging him, but it seems impervious to blades and healing magic."

The Druid got the final word in, "Then we will just have to wait…Wait for him to recover so we can investigate this further."

Leaving the argument there, for now, the party descended the stairs and decided to part ways to go about various tasks around town.

* * *

Several days had passed since the adventuring party had returned. The entire village was in jubilation as the curse had been lifted after all those decades. All business stopped and there was a seven-day festival held in the honor of the heroes that defeated the Arch Lich. The villagers became intoxicated by the sun's warm glow. Never had it penetrated the thick smog and darkened clouds that engulfed the land. It was truly a joyous occasion. Even the heroes faked smiles for the locals but a few knew why their gazes were troubled and thoughts heavy- the Wizard of the party had yet to recover.

In the top room of the inn, sequestered and unmoving for days, lay the collapsed and bloody heap of a Wizard. It wasn't until the tenth day of revelry did he stir late into the evening. A young Zolken was charged with the upkeep of the rooms. While the villagers were celebrating, he was changing bedding and tidying up the entire Inn. For days he watched the unconscious elf for any movement, any sign that he might survive.

About two weeks after the Lich was defeated, the party was at last able to consult with the wizard. After a small argument, they briefly departed about various businesses in the town and nearby areas, leaving the Wizard behind. Cleaning the room while the man was unconscious was easy- now that he was awake, Zolken was terrified. He had never encountered a magic-user before, let alone a Wizard—not a real user anyway. The priest of the village could do some magic, primarily basic healing, but this was the first Wizard. Steeling his nerves that morning, he rapt on the door with clean blankets piled in his arm.

Hearing a very weak reply, the teen entered the room to find the still heavily wounded and bandaged Wizard sitting on the edge of the bed. A book, not the Wizard's true spell book but a small one just meant for notes, lay open, propped against the pillow and a spectral hand floating across the room pouring a glass of wine into a cup before bringing it back to the wizard.

With a hesitant and nervous voice, the boy spoke, "Good morning, sir. I-I've brought some clean linens."

Gesturing to the pile of blankets and sheets folded in his arm, Zolken willed himself to be cheery even though he was terrified. At first, the Wizard said nothing and just took a slow but small sip of the wine. He set it along with his book onto the nearby nightstand. Returning the boys smirk, Rhys bowed his head, shameful to ask this he softly spoke, "Would you lend me your shoulder?"

Stepping forward, Zolken placed the blankets on a nearby chair and approached the wizard. His skeletal hand firmly gripped the bedpost while his normal right hand gingerly was placed onto the boy's shoulder as extra but unused support. Then with strained effort, the wounded elf hauled himself from the bed and stood unsteadily. Zolken's eyes glared in awe at the skeleton hand, and he was so distracted by it, he did not feel Rhys shift his arm so that his forearm rather than his hand rested on the boy's shoulder. With a quick gesture and a quiet murmur, a second Mage hand was summoned.

The boy's attention was quickly shifted to the now two spectral hands stripping the bed. They made quick work of the task but Zolken was amazed at the show. The deft but ethereal hands floated with purpose and swiftness. While mesmerized, Zolken almost missed the wizard's question, "...what is your name?"

Stammering while still staring at the Mage Hands fold the previous linens and placed them into a stack on the floor. "Z-Zolken, sir."

With his grip still on the bedpost, the wizard shifted, with a slight groan to sit back on the edge of the bed. As soon as he was seated, he dispelled the floating hands. Zolken watched with disappointment as they faded into thin air.

Rhys' voice was weary but growing a bit in strength, "A strong name...so Zolken, you have an interest in magic?"

Shaking off the distraction, Zolken shook his head and began to gather the sheets "Sir? I'm not sure I-"

With a skeptical look, Rhys outed the kid. "No reason to deny it...I know you've read a few pages..." With a sly nod towards the book on the nightstand, the teen shuttered as he knew he was caught. How could he have known?! The wizard was unconscious...or was he? With his mind reeling, the boy's fears came to full force.

Pleading with the man the teen spoke, "Please Mr. Wizard, I meant no offense. It was just a quick look. I accidentally knocked it off the table one morning-"

Holding up his hand to stop the kid from begging, Rhys gestured for the teen to come closer, "It's alright... Kindly bring that candle near."

With a questioning glance, the teen looked to see the midday sun was still very bright, what the wizard wanted with the candle he wasn't sure. But he complied. As he approached, the wizard pat the bedside next to him for the boy to sit. Taking the candle from him, Rhys held it directly in front of the teenager and then spoke, "Magic can be fickle...it will be easier if you close your eyes for a moment."

Obeying once again, the boy closed his eyes. Rhys waited a few moments before continuing, "Picture this candle...the wick is charred and blackened. Recall a time when it was lit, the stem remains dark towards the base...but towards to top, it glows a white-ish orange as it is encased in a small flame. Focus on that flame. See how it dances when your breath hits it, threatening to snuff it out. Feel the tiny warmth it produces."

As the wizard narrated, the boy could clearly visualize each note. While he thought it was silly at first, the more the wizard spoke, the more real it became. It was so real in fact, that the teen could have sworn he felt the warmth of the candle. Opening his eyes without direction—much to his surprise, the wizard now held a lit candle.

Curious, the boy exclaimed, "How did you do that?"

With a coy tone, Rhys grinned slightly, "I didn't."

Seeing the boy's doubt, Rhys snuffed out the candle with his skeletal fingertips and then handed the candle back to the kid. This time, he would have him hold it to show he did not interfere. With a small fib, Rhys could tell the teen would need some more convincing. Clearing his throat, Rhys spun a harmless white lie in order to bring forth a greater truth, "There is an enchantment on that book...whenever someone who is capable of casting comes into contact with it...I am made aware."

So that is how the wizard knew he had touched the book, Zolken pondered. Looking from the candle back to the wizard, he asked, "Does that mean me? I'm capable of magic?!"

With a subtle nod, Rhys maintained the airs of a professor and urged the teen on, "Now, try again. This time with your eyes open. The steps are exactly the same. Picture the flame on the wick in your mind and then will it to be there."

With his gaze fixed on the candle, the teen now had to overcome his instincts and mental doubt. Even so, the wizard beside him seemed confident. Moments passed with no results. Just as he was about to give up, a small glow appeared on the wick. Holding his breath, with a fluttering heartbeat, the boy watched amazed as a small flame licked the candle and became steady. With a big grin on his face, he looked back at the wizard.

Rhys bowed his head slightly and with a flick of his finger he snuffed out the candle. This time without touching it- revealing that the spell worked both ways, to ignite and snuff out. "Once more... You'll find it much easier this time."

Sure enough, as soon as the boy focused on the wick, a stronger flame bounced into existence. After a gentle congratulatory pat on the back, Rhys leaned back against the bed's headboard and watched the kid eagerly snuff out the candle only to light it once more a few more times just to verify he wasn't dreaming.

Rhys with a slight grin, "Prestidigitation...it is an entry-level spell used for a variety of things- particularly small acts of magic...lighting candles, heating bathwater, quieting or amplifying sounds."

Stammering to say the word, Zolken was determined to get it right. "Presid- Prestidigi- Prestidigitation?"

Rhys enunciated, "Pre-sti-di-gi-tation. It is a bit of a tongue twister for such a simple spell."

* * *

Wish

9th Level Conjuration

Casting Time: 1 action

Range: Self

Components: V

Duration: Instantaneous

Wish is the mightiest spell a mortal creature can cast. By simply speaking aloud, you can alter the very foundations of reality in accord with your desires. The stress of casting this spell to produce any effect other than duplicating another spell weakens you. After enduring that stress, each time you cast a spell until you finish a long rest, you take 1d10 necrotic damage per level of that spell. This damage can't be reduced or prevented in any way. In addition, your Strength drops to 3, if it isn't 3 or lower already, for 2d4 days. For each of those days that you spend resting and doing nothing more than light activity, your remaining recovery time decreases by 2 days. Finally, there is a 33 percent chance that you are unable to cast wish ever again if you suffer this stress.

Teleport

7th Level Conjuration

Casting Time: 1 action

Range: 10 feet

Components: V

Duration: Instantaneous

This spell instantly transports you and up to eight willing creatures of your choice that you can see within range, or a single object that you can see within range, to a destination you select.

Prestidigitation

Cantrip Transmutation

Casting Time: 1 action

Range: 10 feet

Components: V S

Duration: Up to 1 hour

This spell is a minor magical trick that novice spellcasters use for practice. You instantaneously clean or soil an object no larger than 1 cubic foot.


	8. Rhys' Nightmare

**Rhys Silvermoor**

_Silver/Moon High Elf Wizard – Lawful Neutral _

**Lv **20 | **AC**11| **HP** 80

**STR **11 (+0)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **20 (+5) | **WIS **17 (+3) | **CHA **10 (+0)

**Bernard**

_Human Variant Fighter- Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **17 | **AC**12 (w/o armor) | **HP** 191

**STR **16 (+3)** | DEX **13 (+1) | **CON **16 (+3) **| INT **11 (+0) | **WIS **12 (+1) | **CHA **9 (-1)

**Cole **

_Kenku – Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **1 | **AC**11| **HP** 8

**STR **8 (-1)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **15 (+2) | **WIS **16 (+3) | **CHA **13 (+1)

* * *

The air was cold and damp as Rhys descended deeper into the tomb. Draugr and other undead shambled about their patrol as the stealthy wizard went by undetected. Reaching the ceremonial inner sanctum Rhys crept closer to the throne. Expecting to find his target waiting there for him, Rhys rounded the corner with magic swirling at the ready around his arm, only to find the chair empty.

Then a disembodied sinister laugh filled the air as well over fifty assorted undead rose from the ground and encircled the wizard. Casting a quick glance around to judge his predicament, Rhys ripped off his glove to expose his left skeletal hand. Just as the circle encroached, a pulse of magic radiated from Rhys and the nearest undead froze in place. Command Undead typically can only subjugate a single target under normal circumstances, that said, Rhys' curse was not without its benefits. Amplifying the spell, Rhys cast it with ease and corrupted the nearest undead to his whims, stealing them from their master.

Turning on their own kind, a small number but enriched undead turned and formed a protective circle around Rhys as a massive brawl began. Skeleton and zombie alike began a brutal onslaught, joined by the frightening magic of the surrounded wizard.

It took mere moments for the undead to be dealt with, leaving Rhys in the center of a horrific scene of scattered body parts. Using yet another spell, Rhys forced the Master Lich from hiding and now the two stood face to face in the room of carnage.

In a disembodied and echoing hiss of a voice, the Master Lich taunted, "Sweet Gravestalker... Lich King's Bane... All lovely titles. All false. I know what you really are-"

Cutting himself off, the Lich jettisoned a spell towards Rhys. With a well-timed backhand, Rhys cast Counter Spell to repel it. Unfazed by the Lich's taunt, Rhys' resolve was sound. The two remained locked in a spellcaster duel. Neither was able to make an advance on the other. Knowing he was burning spell slots, Rhys shifted focus and began a more assertive advance. Countering spells and casting his own, Rhys decreased the distance between himself and the Lich. All the while, the Master Lich continued to try to break the wizard's mind.

"Such confidence... Such foolishness. How many tombs have you defiled? How many of my kind have you slain? What malice drives you... Admit it, you are comforted by our existence. A life of study need not be wasted nor lost to time."

Meant to intimidate Rhys further, the Lich cast Toll of the Dead as funeral bells filled the chamber. He knew the spell would not damage the Wizard, instead, it was meant to remind him of his own finite existence.

"Hear those knells...an inevitable yet wasteful end. One, my friend, you may not have to face. You've read the book… seen how it is done... It wouldn't take much... You are already so very close." Chuckling at the prospect, the Lich grinned widely as a fire burned in his eyes. "You've already consumed so many souls... What's a couple more?"

Rhys gritted his teeth and grimaced at the notion. He knew better than to listen to the banter of his foes. He had heard countless monologues through the years but this one, this one was slightly different. The Lich made no attempt to grovel, boast, or plead for his life. Instead, he almost knew his defeat was swiftly approaching.

Met with silence, the Lich continued, "Your silence confirms it. You've considered it. In the darkest corners of your mind, you cannot deny it... Oh, the Lich you will be... terrifying and great...one of even more titles…Yet you cling to your mortality by a thread-"

Pointing to Rhys' skeletal hand, Rhys could feel the remaining flesh on his forearm shiver as if grasp by an icy hand while at the same time, his lungs ignited. The Lich with a twisted sense of satisfaction, "How it makes you suffer... and for what?"

Weary of the endless taunts, Rhys finally replied in a calm but threatening tone, "Yes...I suffer-"

In the blink of an eye, Rhys disappeared and used a Misty Step to close the gap between him and the Lich. Using the swiftness of his Elven lineage, he quickly placed his skeletal hand on the Lich's throat as foul magic surrounded them both. "But the world will suffer you no more."

Drawing the very life essence from the Lich's form, Rhys used a corrupted and darker magic capable through his curse, similar to Soul Cage, to draw the magic directly from the phylactery of the Lich that was projecting to the husk of a body grasp within Rhys extended hand. The husk acted as a conduit connecting Rhys directly to the source of the Lich. With a deadpan expression, Rhys' cursed hand drain it entirely. Rhys was much like a vampire sucking the life force from his victim. The Lich struggled against the exchange but instead of a horrified gaze, he looked pleased. With a final cackle, the Lich's physical form fell to dust and the tomb grew unbearably quiet as all undead and magic from the Lich faded.

Rhys lowered his extended hand and let out a slight sigh. His skeletal hand trembled causing the bones to rattle. Rising his right hand to grip his arm, to Rhys' surprise, he felt something in it. Hesitant to look, Rhys brought the item closer. Horror widened his eye as he took in a sharp breath, terrified at what he held- a newly created phylactery, the soul tied to it, he knew very well.

The sound of two bodies hitting the ground with a loud thud alerted him from behind. Turning on his heel, Rhys turned around to see Cole's and Bernard's lifeless forms on the ground directly behind him. His heart pounded in his ears as the phylactery in his hand grew warm to the point of burning. Then in a discordant and painful chatter, Rhys heard those awful bells cry out once more and the Master Lich's voice followed in that low but inescapable hiss, "Oh the lich you will be..."

Fear and anger consumed the Wizard and in one swift motion, he crushed the phylactery.

* * *

Jolting up from his bed, Rhys awoke drenched in sweat to find himself back in his room within the Silvermoor manor. Sitting up, he hastily kicked off the covers. Breathing rapidly and with a wheeze, his eye darted around the room, with the aid of his dark vision he studied each corner as he tried to reacclimate himself. The consuming burning pain in his chest and heartbeat in his ears drew him back to reality and the terrifying dream began to fade. Unable to catch his breath, Rhys coughed aggressively as his lungs tried to clear themselves and to pull in more air. Managing to cover his mouth with his elbow, a splatter of blood crashed against his sleeve. With the obstruction clear, Rhys' breathing steadied.

Regaining his composure, he was oddly delighted to see this symptom- it meant that he was still alive and that the vision he just saw was nothing more than a dream. Staggering to his feet, he braced himself using the nightstand. While he was comforted slightly, the dream perturbed him to the point of he needed more proof. With meticulous and determined steps, Rhys willed his weakened frame towards his door and through the manor.

It was early in the morning, dawn would still be a ways away. With quiet steps, Rhys leaned against the wall for support as he made his way to Cole's room. Opening the door ever so slightly, Rhys peered in and in the darkness, he could see the small mound of the bird blissfully asleep. Resting his head against the doorframe, Rhys lingered there just watching his son sleep so soundly. Everything was fine.

It was not until he heard a floorboard creak from down the hall did he close Cole's door. Bernard was making his nightly rounds and was surprised to see Rhys. Approaching quickly, Bernard was at the wizard's side within a moment.

In a low voice, Bernard inquired, "Rhys? What are you-"

As he drew closer, the candle in his hand illuminated the wizard and revealed his disheveled state along with the fresh blood on his nightshirt. Before Bernard could say anything more, Rhys staggered forward on uneasy footing and partially hugged Bernard with his right arm, placing his head onto the tall man's shoulder. Bernard raised his free hand and placed it onto Rhys' shoulder to help support him. As he did, he felt the wizard was trembling and even through his own shirt, the wizard's significant fever radiated heat.

Rhys seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and muttered to himself, "just a dream..."

Bernard was weary of whatever had managed to startle Rhys. The wizard usually maintained his calm demeanor even through horrible bouts of illness and pain. To see him trembling meant something was very very wrong. Bernard addressed his friend in a low but insistent voice, "Are you ok?"

Letting go of Bernard, Rhys took a step back and nodded as a slight grin appeared. "I'm fine. Bit of trouble sleeping..."

Pointing to the stained sleeve, Bernard meant to use it as leverage to get the elf back to bed. "I can see that."

More aware of his surroundings, Rhys cast a side glance at the bloodstain before quickly and nonchalantly brushing it clean with a Prestidigitation spell. "Not to worry about that. You and Cole are safe, that is all that matters."

Perplexed at the rambling, Bernard dismissed it as fever talk. Pointing the candle toward the opposite hall, Bernard ushered Rhys on and back to bed. "Aye, we are safe. No cause for alarm tonight... Save you have a fever. We should get you back to bed-"

Rhys protested at the notion, still upset and unwilling to rekindle that nightmare. Regaining his strength, he spoke with certainty and recommended an alternative, "I have slept enough for tonight... Might take a bath and read for a bit instead."

* * *

Command Undead

Necromancy

Casting time: 1 Action

Range: Close (25 ft. + 5 ft./2 levels)

Components: V, S, M

Target: One undead creature

Duration: One Day

This spell allows you some degree of control over an undead creature. It will not attack you while the spell lasts. A nonintelligent undead creature gets no saving throw against this spell. When you control a mindless being, you can communicate only basic commands, such as "come here," "go there," "fight," "standstill," and so on. Nonintelligent undead won't resist suicidal or obviously harmful orders.

Counterspell

3rd Level Abjuration

Casting Time: 1 reaction, which you take when you see a creature within 60 feet of you casting a spell

Range: 60 feet

Components: S

Duration: Instantaneous

You attempt to interrupt a creature in the process of casting a spell. If the creature is casting a spell of 3rd level or lower, its spell fails and has no effect. If it is casting a spell of 4th level or higher, make an ability check using your spellcasting ability. The DC equals 10 + the spell's level. On a success, the creature's spell fails and has no effect. At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 4th level or higher, the interrupted spell has no effect if its level is less than or equal to the level of the spell slot you used.

Toll the Dead

Necromancy Cantrip

Casting time: 1 Action

Range: 60 ft

Components: V, S

Duration: Instantaneous

You point at one creature you can see within range, and the sound of a dolorous bell fills the air around it for a moment. The target must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or take 1d8 necrotic damage. If the target is missing any of its hit points, it instead takes 1d12 necrotic damage.

Misty Step

2nd Level Conjuration

Casting Time: 1 bonus action

Range: Self

Components: V

Duration: Instantaneous

Classes: Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard

Briefly surrounded by silvery mist, you teleport up to 30 feet to an unoccupied space that you can see.

Soul Cage

6th Level Necromancy

Casting time: Special

Range: 60 ft

Components: V, S, M (a tiny silver cage worth 100 gp)

Duration: 8 Hours

This spell snatches the soul of a humanoid as it dies and traps it inside the tiny cage you use for the material component. A stolen soul remains inside the cage until the spell ends or until you destroy the cage, which ends the spell. While you have a soul inside the cage, you can exploit it in any of the ways described below. You can use a trapped soul up to six times. Once you exploit a soul for the sixth time, it is released, and the spell ends. While a soul is trapped, the dead humanoid it came from can't be revived. Steal Life. You can use a bonus action to drain vigor from the soul and regain 2d8 hit points.

Prestidigitation

Cantrip Transmutation

Casting Time: 1 action

Range: 10 feet

Components: V S

Duration: Up to 1 hour

This spell is a minor magical trick that novice spellcasters use for practice. You instantaneously clean or soil an object no larger than 1 cubic foot.


	9. Masquerade

**Rhys Silvermoor**

_Silver/Moon High Elf Wizard – Lawful Neutral _

**Lv **20 | **AC**11| **HP** 80

**STR **11 (+0)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **20 (+5) | **WIS **17 (+3) | **CHA **10 (+0)

**Bernard**

_Human Variant Fighter- Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **17 | **AC**12 (w/o armor) | **HP** 191

**STR **16 (+3)** | DEX **13 (+1) | **CON **16 (+3) **| INT **11 (+0) | **WIS **12 (+1) | **CHA **9 (-1)

**Cole **

_Kenku – Chaotic Neutral _

**Lv **1 | **AC**11| **HP** 8

**STR **8 (-1)** | DEX **12 (+1) | **CON **10 (+0) **| INT **15 (+2) | **WIS **16 (+3) | **CHA **13 (+1)

* * *

"I am not going!" Shouted the wizard from around the corner shelf. Rhys stood on the tall ladder and leaned against the bookshelf as Bernard made his way back into the room carrying freshly pressed and tailored formal robes, shirts, and pants.

In an argumentative tone, Bernard persisted, "You've declined for the last ten years! The old Lord might be dead by spring. Better to make an appearance now than be remembered for not..."

Dejected, Rhys groaned, "He doesn't need me there to usher that process along… Besides, they can hold off for another five or ten years more. Appearing after a fifteen- or twenty-year hiatus might remind them that I've far better things to do than go to yet another pointless Gala..."

Having read the numerous invites, Bernard protested, "Apparently this isn't just a winter Gala. The Grand Duke is presenting his nephew as his successor, if you want to keep them off your back, it would serve you well to show up at his presentation. They have already sent seven letters confirming your attendance."

With a swift kick, Rhys propelled the ladder from one bookend to the other. "I despise the gathering of nobles…nothing good can come of it...and those-" glaring at the formal attire, Rhys dismounted the ladder by hoping off the rung and landing effortlessly. "Those stuck ups have all the capital they could ever want and yet they dress in the most uncomfortable garbs...for leisure..."

Holding up the formal attire to inspect it, Rhys grimaced. Bernard had selected a loose but clean black shirt with bell sleeves that narrowed at the cuffs, a dark embordered vest, a high collar over-coat type robe, and a long, nearly floor-length, shoulder cape with accompanying belts was staged and hung on the hanger. It was tastefully arranged, and it seemed to suit the event and Rhys' preferences as best as it could. Although nothing could beat the comfort of his daily outfit—Rhys saw no reason as old and wretched as he was not to at least dress comfortably.

Setting the ensemble on the desk, Rhys turned back to Bernard, about to thank him for the preparations, Bernard interrupted with a playful taunt, "If you lose any more weight, I'll have to have those redone."

Swallowing his pride, a bit, Rhys still stewed on a way to get out of this. But it appeared that Bernard was to be rather insistent. "Thank you for seeing to these details…"

Noticing the Wizard's mind was wandering, Bernard tried to console him, "Come on, all you have to do is make sure the marshal shouts your name, linger long enough to rub some elbows, may have a bit of cake, and then get the hell outta there—Easiest infiltration assignment you've ever done."

Running his fingers down his face after a grueling facepalm, Rhys sighed, "You have no idea... Nobles like to vie Elvish tutors for their offspring in droves... A collectible commodity used to flaunt their riches and affluence." Shuttering as he dictated that last bit, Rhys walked over to his desk and slunk into his chair.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Bernard just chuckled. The wizard would dine with Hags, visit with the low-life tavern crawlers, or go camping in the Fey Wild without a second thought and yet he treated this little soirée with the same grimness and apprehensiveness one would spelunking into a Dragon's lair. "If you despise nobles so much, why'd you take the title then?"

In a matter of fact tone, Rhys replied, "I actually declined it on several occasions… eventually, they had the ceremony without me..."

That reply honestly didn't surprise Bernard in the least. Still trying to address Rhys' concerns to try and convince the stubborn Wizard to go, Bernard continued, "Would it help if Cole went? It might be a good chance to expose him to Court?"

Rhys' eye widened in horror and cautioned the large fighter, "I would never drag him into that den of vipers."

Putting his hand on the back of his neck, Bernard rubbed it halfheartedly and mused, "Well… I am not sure you'd have to drag him. The lad seemed pretty excited—"

Standing from his seat, Rhys put both hands on his desk and leaned over threateningly, interrupting Bernard, "You didn't!"

Bernard couldn't have timed this next bit better if he tried, Cole entered the Wizard's study on perfect cue clad in his own formal attire. Cole, adjusting the lapels of his own vest, walked in to get Bernard's and Rhys' opinion. Sporting a high collared shirt, vest, and tactful shorts as not to impede his crow-like legs, Cole wore it well. Extending his arms wide, he was beaming.

Bernard guiltily replied softly so that only Rhys heard. A sinister grin glued to his face, knowing that he had a trump card, " 'Kinda already promised the lad that you'd take him." Taking a couple of steps towards Cole, Bernard sized him and had Cole turn in place to get a better look at how the outfit laid. Not a bad job, if he did say so himself.

Grinning, Cole looked curiously over towards the desk at Rhys' outfit. Then in an excited voice, inquired, "What do you think?"

Biting his tongue, Rhys glared briefly at Bernard, he should have anticipated this level of betrayal and cheap tactics. Bernard had won this round. Softening his gaze, Rhys smirked slightly at Cole, at least someone was happy about this. He would have to find a way to retaliate against Bernard later. In a fatherly tone, Rhys replied, "It suits you well. Bernard did a fine job preparing that in such a short time."

Cole's feathers stood on end with anticipation. He never imagined he would get to wear anything this refined nor have the occasion to. Though Rhys was a noble, he always wore common garbs. The same was true with Bernard. Cole figured they liked more practical outfits due to their years as adventurers. But this was a new experience that Cole eagerly awaited.

* * *

The day of the Gala had finally arrived. Bernard had taken up his usual role as carriage driver, and Rhys and Cole sat within the carriage and made their way to the large city. Cole sat proudly in the carriage with his chest puffed in excitement. This was his first formal ball. He even had his beak pressed against the glass watching the carriage pass multiple lavish estates. Seeing them get closer, Rhys removed his travel cloak and cast Alter Self.

Turning to his mentor after feeling the brush of his cloak touch his feathers as Rhys rose to tuck it away in the overhead cabinet, Cole barely recognized the man standing next to him as Rhys donned a healthier and unmarred face. It was every bit of this own face, as his age had not changed but he was revitalized, rested, shockingly healed. The missing patches of skin were back and the blank eye had been replaced with a stunning icy blue iris to match his other. Cole quickly assessed that this is what Rhys must have looked like had he never encountered the Lich.

Rhys caught Coles glance and grinned sadly. Taking his seat again, Rhys gestured to his face. "I dislike doing this... but it will be less conspicuous this way… Besides, everyone there will be presenting a false face... Might as well fit in. You will need to be keenly on guard. Nobles are vicious and will smile in your face but secretly plot your demise in seven ways before the night is over. It is best to engage them as seldom as possible and never trust them. Ever."

Nodding understandingly, Cole could see Rhys was uncomfortable. He wasn't sure if it was the refined clothes or the lie Rhys had to cloak himself with. In many ways, Rhys looked like he was preparing himself for battle as there was certainly an air of worry to his gaze. Cole spoke reassuringly and gestured back to Rhys' face, "I like it better the normal way."

Contemplating that comment caused Rhys to sincerely chuckle—that seems to lighten the Wizard's mood a bit. Rhys took Cole's hand into his own and brought it to the left side of his face. Touching it, the magic made the flesh feel real. Rhys explained, "Alter Self is a transmutation spell- that physically alters one's appearance. Disguise self is just an illusion. If I had cast the latter, your hand would pass right through the spell and reveal it to be fake. Unfortunately, both are concentration based...and only last an hour."

Lowering Cole's hand, Rhys continued, "If you would, I'll need you to stay by my left side. Though my eye looks like it has returned, that is just a superficial glamor, my sight in that eye has not."

Eager to be of assistance, Cole nodded once more, as their conversation was cut short by their arrival. Cole exited the carriage first and assisted Rhys out. Rhys' long shoulder cape helped conceal his left side in addition to the magic he cast. Placing his gloved arm onto Cole's shoulder, the pair made their way up the entry stairs and entered the ornate manor. They were not the first to arrive but nor were they the last. Just as Rhys had hoped, that way their appearance should largely go unnoticed. Attendants ushered them onto the ballroom and there Rhys and Cole were stopped by the door. Reaching into his vest, Rhys withdrew his invitation and name card. The grand marshal took it into his own gloved hand and graciously inspected it.

Bellowing name after name, the assisting marshal announced each of the arrivals. Cole and Rhys stood in the queue as pairs of individuals descended into the bellows of the grand and lavish room. As the card was passed to the announcer, Rhys and Cole were already making their way hastily down the stairs into the ballroom below. "Lord Silvermoor!"

Stunned attendees turned to get a glimpse at the door as the announcers spoke that name—the elusive Wizard hadn't made a court appearance in decades and the nearest crowd members began to murmur as word spread of his arrival. Rhys and Cole kept to the wall and discreetly crept through the crowd, largely going unnoticed. Thankfully, Rhys was known more by name than appearance within the gathering and could narrowly avoid detection as more nobles became aware of his arrival. It was not hard to overhear comments about him as they passed through the conglomeration.

Stopping dead in his tracks, a gorgeous Tiefling lady clad in a deep maroon gown managed to cut Rhys off from his intended path. Stepping in front of them, she smiled sweetly and addressed Rhys is a refined voice, "Ah, there you are, I almost didn't recognize you, Rhys Silvermoor." Her words were like velvet and despite her devilish appearance, she was absolutely stunning. Jewels with fine silvery chains adorning her small horns that formed a headdress of sorts.

Rhys paused for a moment and studied the girl's face. It had been a while since he last saw her, thankfully she favored her mother, so he was able to recognize her quickly. In his usual kind tone, Rhys tipped his head in a slight greeting, "If it isn't Amelia, how—"

Closing the distance between herself and Rhys as he spoke, Cole's eyes widened in shock at what happened next. Drawing her fist at the ready, the devilish woman swiftly and adeptly landed a sucker punch directly to Rhys' stomach, knocking the wind right out of him. All the while, her beautiful smile never faltered. Hunching over and gripping Cole's shoulder for support, Rhys quietly but painfully absorbed the hit and tried with all his might not to cause a scene. Cole attempted to move closer to help Rhys but was stopped by the Tiefling who advanced further and actually embraced Rhys in a hug, forcing his shoulders back to help him restore breath to his now infuriated lungs and to stretch the traumatized diaphragm.

Pulling away, allowing Rhys a moment to recover, the Tiefling turned her ebony eyes to Cole and in a reassuring tone explained, "He knows what that is for."

Dumbfounded and not sure what to do, Cole flinched as he rose her hand to caress his cheek. In an earnest and sweet tone, she questioned while stroking Cole's feathers, "Now, sweet bird, how came you by such an awful wizard?"

Casting a wary glance towards Rhys before looking back at the Tiefling. Remembering Rhys' warning not to show weakness or fear here, Cole took in a deep breath and confidently responded, "He is my mentor."

Amusement colored her expression as her smile widened briefly in disbelief, she repeated, "Rhys is your mentor… my, my, what interesting news. I didn't think you would ever name an apprentice." Looking back at the Elf, Amelia's smile faded slightly. The spell Rhys had cast to conceal his appearance remained intact. Disappointed that her punch did not break his concentration, she scolded herself as she should have expected no less from him, seeing as he was once, and still appeared to be, a war caster. Leaning close to Cole, she whispered in his ear. "I had to result to that tactic because I knew he wouldn't anticipate it as easily. He is too good at countering spells."

Clearing his throat, begging his lungs to behave, Rhys recovered and spoke seemingly unfazed by that assault. "Cole, this is Amelia, daughter of Olenna, both Sorcerers and old friends."

Cole looked at Rhys and wordlessly inquired if he was alright. With a nod, Rhys reassured his companion. After Rhys introduced her, Amelia, planted a kiss on the brim of Cole's beak. She then fuzzed the feathers on top of his head before stepping back from the pair. In a confident tone, she addressed Rhys, "You know… you've caused me to lose a bet."

Rhys replied in a sly but interested tone, "Oh, is that what that was about?"

Pouting like a schoolgirl, the Tiefling in her mid-twenties put her hand on her hip and scoffed. There was no way the wizard forgot why he deserved that blow. He was just playing games. But to make sure, she hissed and explanation, switching to speak in Infernal, "No, no, that was from my mother. She is still upset that you didn't accept her last invitation. Made me promise to send her regards next I saw you… I am still contemplating a way to make you pay for ruining my winning streak."

Rhys bowed his head apologetically and returned a reply in Infernal, "Do pass along my apologies— I had every intention to attend but was… delayed by other affairs… Did the scroll I sent, in my stead, help any?"

Returning to a sweet persona, the Tiefling nodded, "Yes. It cleared up the issue flawlessly… Mother would have rather you cast it in person though."

Unaware of what Rhys and Amelia were referring to, Cole just lingered by and protected Rhys' side. He already felt like he failed since the Tiefling was able to strike him so easily. Rhys nodded in agreement and still addressed her in Infernal to help keep eavesdropping to a minimum, "And I would have liked nothing more than to join her adventuring party…" Stopping himself before turning the conversation too grim, Rhys changed the subject by inquiring in Common, "So, what was this bet you mentioned?"

With a fanged grin, the Tiefling announced, "That you wouldn't show. I've had a running bet with the Duke for the last few years… for every year you didn't appear, I got a thousand Gold."

* * *

Alter Self

2nd Level transmutation

Casting Time: 1 action

Range: Self

Components: V S

Duration: Up to 1 hour

You assume a different form. When you cast the spell, choose one of the following options, the effects of which last for the duration of the spell. While the spell lasts, you can end one option as an action to gain the benefits of a different one.

Change Appearance. You transform your appearance. You decide what you look like, including your height, weight, facial features, the sound of your voice, hair length, coloration, and distinguishing characteristics if any. You can make yourself appear as a member of another race, though none of your statistics change. You also can't appear as a creature of a different size than you, and your basic shape stays the same; if you're bipedal, you can't use this spell to become quadrupedal, for instance. At any time for the duration of the spell, you can use your action to change your appearance in this way again.


End file.
